


It's You Not Me

by connorssock, OhNoMyBreadsticks



Series: Motorcycle Emptiness [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aggressive Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Alternate Universe - Bikers, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, Childhood Trauma, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Elijah Kamski Being an Asshole, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Alcoholic Hank Anderson, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Siblings, Recovery, Smut, Therapy, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 41,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22533166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/connorssock, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoMyBreadsticks/pseuds/OhNoMyBreadsticks
Summary: Connor and Hank have both been through a lot - things that have the ability to tear their relationship and their lives down to nothing. But they've got each other now, and that's got to count for something, right?(Connected storyline withRev My Engines.Major triggers already tagged for the entire story, additional warnings/tags will be updated as chapters are added)
Relationships: Captain Allen/CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Hank Anderson/Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: Motorcycle Emptiness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621258
Comments: 42
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Socks and Bready back at it again! This time we're proud to present the Hankcon story component to [Rev My Engines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/52631653)! These chapters will intertwine with the timeline of that fic, so check the notes to jump to the appropriate timestamp in each fic!
> 
> A few notes:
> 
> -Socks is writing the perspectives of Sixty, Nines, and Connor  
> -Bready is writing the perspectives of Allen, Gavin, and Nines  
>   
> [Updated] This chapter happens concurrently with [Chapter 19 of Rev My Engines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/58590601)

_ Nines: _

I really wish I could see what Hank and Connor are like after that XD

_ Gavin: _

Not good is what I’m picturing XD

_ Nines: _

Yeah. Connor was way out of line there.

_ Gavin: _

I’d imagine he doesn’t have a date for tonight XD

_ Nines: _

Pfffft. That he does not. He's home alone and sulking. Playing emo music really loudly?

_ Gavin: _

Oh absolutely XD

Hank is taking probably Sumo out to try and cool down.

* * *

Oddly, Hank’s route with Sumo took him past Connor's. He hadn't meant to end up there. But they needed to have a chat. If Connor wouldn't listen to his brother, he might listen to Hank while Sumo sat next to him. Hank was incredibly serious, he had his quiet voice out and he just looked really disappointed in Connor the whole time. Trying to explain how worried he was about all this reckless behavior

Connor tried to do his best to explain. Because he needed to protect Sixty, needs to make sure he only gets the best and all Allen had been doing is hurting him. He ends up breaking down and crying.

Hank set a hand on Connor’s leg to try and comfort him, but he still couldn’t let go of all the terrible reckless things he did. He tried to explain just how worried he was because Connor could have lost his job over this, or even ended up in jail if Allen had been seriously hurt in that crash

The thing is, Connor knew all that. But he had deemed Sixty more important that anything else. It's what family does for each other. He would have done it for Nines too. And Hank. Maybe even Gavin.

That hit hard for Hank, but he still had to tell Connor he can’t forgive him just yet. Because he has to learn that his safety is just as important as anyone else’s, and if he endangers himself and Hank’s friend at the same time, there are consequences

Still sniffly, Connor nodded and suggest that maybe Hank would like a bit of time apart so they can think and reflect without the other there. He doesn't say that he thinks Hank might leave him over this, especially because he has no regrets and would do it all again in a heartbeat. But maybe part of him does see that it was a rash and foolish thing to do.

Hank had a really bad feeling deep in his gut over this, like this might be a serious blow to their relationship. But he agreed because he did think that they need some time apart, and he tells Connor that he hopes he can see why what he’s done is upsetting. Because if he can’t, then Hank has a lot more to think about.

In the silence of his home, Connor could absolutely see Hank's perspective. Deep down even agreed with it and was ashamed. But he didn't know what he could do to keep Sixty safe. Perhaps Connor was wrong because nobody else seemed as worried about his brother. He cries most of the night.

Hank worried about Connor the whole night, staying up and trying to stay busy so he didn’t spiral into bad habits. He even called to see if Gavin wanted to go for a late night ride, just to get the nerves out. Because he hated being away from Connor when he was so upset...

In the morning, Connor called Sixty to apologise but he can't apologise to Allen though, he had too much pride for that. But he knew he has done stupid things. He sent Hank a simple text saying  I'm sorry.

Hank was relieved to see that Connor is reaching out, but this felt like something they needed to talk about face to face. So he sent back  **_Are you ready to talk about it?_ **

_**Not really. But I think we have to.** _ It was the painful truth and Connor knew he needed to talk it through for their sake if not for his. He can't exactly run and hide from all his mistakes.

**_Do you want to come over after work?_ ** Hank sent back, offering a tenuous olive branch. He also didn't want this conversation to maybe be interrupted by one of Connor's brothers, so having it at his house seemed safer.

For the first time in his life, Connor's knee jerk reaction to the question was "not really" but he didn't say that. Because he couldn't even guess how it was all going to go. Whether he was going to walk out of that house with one less person in his life or if things might settle. The uncertainty of it all made him worry more and more until tears and worst case scenarios wouldn't stop.

**_It would probably be for the best._ **

He felt like he was signing his own death warrant.

Hank’s heart sank as well when he saw that reply. He knew Connor was upset, sure, but this made it sound like he was preparing for a breakup. Hank had to sit down then, considering for the first time what he had been trying to avoid - was this it for them?

Trying his best not to do anything rash or stupid, he texted back  **_Alright, I’ll see you tonight._** then and resigned himself to whatever would come. He was an adult, he could handle it if Connor wanted to break things off. Or at least, that’s what he was trying to hold on to.

The day was a bit of a waste. Connor had never felt more alone. Nines was point blank ignoring him, Sixty was snippy with his responses and Hank he couldn't really contact until their chat that evening. By the time he was knocking on the familiar front door, Connor had all but convinced himself that nobody really wanted or needed him anymore.

Hank did his best to drag himself through the work day, but it was hard to concentrate when every second thought was about how he was going to move on if he lost Connor. Connor was such an important part of his life, and the thought of being without him...Hank was relieved when he got to go home and let Sumo out, the comforting presence of his dog the most positive thing in his day right now.

Hank opened the door right away when Connor knocked, greeting him with half a smile and inviting him to come in and sit down. He looked terrible - drawn and pale - and Hank wanted nothing more than to hug him and make it all okay again.

Uncertain of his welcome in a house he had been calling his second home for a while now, Connor stood in the middle of the room, not quite able to bring himself to sit down. He watched Hank with sad eyes.

"I can understand if you don't want me after all this," he blurted out.

Hank shook his head, sitting down on the sofa and patting the space next to him. “Connor, I care about you so much, that’s why we’re talking about this. Not because I don’t want you.” He said softly.

"Oh." As per usual, Hank managed to make things sound so simple and straightforward. Connor slumped into the sofa, a little lost.

"Since yesterday, it has felt like nobody had really wanted me around." And it was deserved, he had been an ass. Worse than an ass, an idiot and a dangerous one at that. But he'd apologized to Sixty already, there wasn't a lot more he could do. Which was a lie and he knew it but he wanted to believe it for now.

Hank listened carefully, watching the way Connor slumped into his seat. It felt terrible, but he knew he had to keep being honest even if that honesty was brutal. They had gotten so lucky this time, and Hank was so scared that if he didn’t intervene now there would come a point where something  _ did _ go wrong during one of these temper outbursts.

“It’s hard to be around someone who’s so angry, especially when they’re doing dangerous things to people we care about.” He said slowly, “But at least for me, and I think probably for your brothers too, we don’t want to never see you again.”

Connor dropped his head in his hands miserably.

"I don't want to be like him. I was just so scared for Sixty and so angry at Allen for hurting him. What if Allen turned out like him? And Sixty wouldn't leave him? I had to let him know that he can't get away with it. That he'd have something so much worse happen to him because I'd protect Sixty. I'm big enough for that now."

Hank’s expression had creased into a worried frown. He leaned in closer to Connor, gently setting a hand on his back in a comforting gesture. 

“Who are you talking about, Con? If you feel comfortable talking about it, I think this is something I need to hear.” Hank said. He had a bad feeling he already knew the story he was about to hear, but he needed to hear it from Connor. They’d never talked about his past, and maybe this was why.

The ugly truth never could be stamped down and forgotten, it had a nasty way of haunting Connor in the darkest of ways.

"The man we should have called father. Amanda's partner."

That was all he could get out for now, the words were there, crowding the back of his throat but he couldn't get them out.

Hank soothed his hand slowly up and down Connor’s back, hearing the emotion choking out in his few words. He knew that Amanda was the woman who had taken Connor and his brothers in, but only because that’s where their last name came from. She didn’t get discussed much.

“You’re safe now, you’re here with me.” Hank reassured, “And I’m listening, take your time.”

The words got mangled by a hiccoughed breath as Connor tried to hold himself together. Whatever control he had was slipping in the face of Hank's kindness. It wasn't what he deserved, not after everything.

"Have you never thought it was weird how, of the three of us, two are in law enforcement and another went through medical school? He never hurt us but he didn't spare Amanda. We tried to protect each other as much as possible but we still heard and saw things and swore to do what we could to help others."

Shame burned through Connor. He was no better than the man who made their childhood so stressful. Rather than use his words, he'd resorted to physical violence just like the examples of his childhood. He was absolutely disgusted by himself.

Hank felt his blood boil as he extrapolated from what Connor was telling him. It was easy to paint a picture in his mind - three young boys in an adoptive family, watching the woman who was kind to them be beaten by the partner who was supposed to love her.

“I think I understand why you’re so protective of your brothers now.” Hank said slowly, “You want to make sure they don’t get hurt like she did, and you feel responsible because you’re the oldest brother.”

A choked off sob got hidden behind Connor's hand as he doubled over.

"I shouldn't have told you that. I'm so sorry. This isn't something you need to worry about."

It was all in the past, the brothers had made their decisions and moved on. At no point was it easy but they got through it. And now, Connor was dredging it all up, behaving in a way they agreed none of them ever would. Still, there was no taking it back, Hank knew the truth.

"I think I should leave," he cried.

Hank shook his head, arm sliding around Connor’s waist and holding him close. “Con, I worry about you because I love you. That’s how it works, you don’t have to apologize for telling me what’s upsetting you.” 

Seeing Connor crying like this felt like a physical ache in Hank’s chest, because he knew he couldn’t do anything to stop it. This was an old wound, something that ran deep, and Hank could only do his best to be there for Connor now.

"But I need to apologise. Because he never did. Not in a way he meant it." Connor was aware he was starting to babble but he couldn't stop it, much like he couldn't halt the tears. "I've already apologised to Sixty but I should do it again. And to Nines. I broke our promise. I've ruined everything."

He slumped against Hank's side, body shaking with sobs that just didn't seem like they'd ever stop. Even as he tried to reach for his phone, they were trembling so hard, tears obscured his vision enough that Connor knew that he'd never be able to use his phone in such a state and that only made him cry harder.

As soon as Connor slumped against him, Hank finally gathered him up in his arms and held him close. Gently, carefully, he took Connor’s hands in his and held them still, knowing that even if he wanted to call now on his phone it would be a terrible idea. 

Hank rocked them slowly back and forth, soft shushing noises and wordless murmurs leaving his lips as he tried to calm Connor through this outburst. This wasn’t about him any more, it was about Connor, and he was going to do his damndest to help him.

“You’re alright, you’re safe. You’re not him, and you never will be, okay? You sit here with me, and listen to my voice, and remember that your brothers love you. You haven’t ruined anything.” Hank kept his voice low and soft, like he would for a child.

Connor didn't deserve the kindness and gentle love Hank was showing him. However he was too weak to resist and he let himself be rocked until his head hurt from crying so much. Everything felt too heavy to move, his anguished weighed him down and all Connor wanted to do was go to sleep. Sniffling lightly, he sagged until only Hank was holding him upright. With no small amount of guilt, Connor wondered what would happen if he did fall asleep then and there. Whether Hank would rightfully wake him and kick him out, or if he'd be given a reprieve from everything, just for a night at least. He still wasn't sure Hank wouldn't gently kick him to the curb when he was less of a mess.

“C’mere, that’s it. Close your eyes, you need to rest.” Hank murmured, feeling Connor starting to go limp against him. The poor guy, he had cried himself out. Hank was almost glad, honestly, since it seemed like he needed the rest. 

He brushed his fingers through Connor’s hair, pushing it back off his face and gently wiping at the tears staining his cheeks. In the morning they could talk more, but for now  he needed to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with another chapter of Hank and Connor. After that big meltdown the boys need some time to recover and talk it out! Let's see how Connor does moving forward...

“Up you go. You’re gonna make an old man throw out his back.” Hank murmured with a soft chuckle, gathering Connor up in his arms and standing with a groan. Bed would be a better place for him to sleep than the sofa.

Of the many things Connor expected, being picked up like a child was not one of them. He let out a small whine, made all the worse sounding by how snotty he was. Shame flushed through him at how his ugly tears had gotten the better of him.

"I can leave," he offered weakly. "I can call a cab."

Hank tsked at that idea, tongue clicking against his teeth as he shook his head. “Absolutely not. You’re sleeping here, so I can keep an eye on you.” He said, making his way into the bedroom and setting Connor down on the bed as gently as he could.

“Whether I sleep here too is up to you though. You can just have a sleepover with Sumo if that’s more comfortable.” He offered, not wanting to overstep when Connor was vulnerable.

The bed was solid under Connor, a welcome anchor when it felt like everything else was spinning out of control.

"I don't want to assume anything right now," he mumbled sullenly, curling up into a miserable ball. "Dare not ask you to stay because I don't deserve you."

He knew he was throwing himself a pity party of epic proportions and it wasn't really helping the situation but he didn't know what else he could do.

On any normal night, Hank would have rolled his eyes and gently bopped Connor on the top of the head for being whiny. As it was, he simply shook his head and replied “That wasn’t the question, Con. But I’ll stay then, unless you ask me to leave.” 

The thought of sleeping on the sofa with his back made Hank already want to groan, and it seemed like Connor was actually desperate for company but didn’t feel like he could ask for it. So this was probably a safe bet.

"I want nothing more than to hide in your arms.' The confession hurt Connor and he didn't dare look up at Hank, worried about seeing rejection, hate, or even annoyance at how he was behaving. "I just don't know what to do anymore. Please help me."

Hank's face was painted with nothing but concern for Connor now, and he walked around the bed to crawl under the covers and pull him close. "I'm right here, it's alright." Hank reassured him, "We'll figure this out together. But first, sleep."

Sleep didn't bring much comfort. When Connor woke up, he was still miserable and ashamed on top of it all for coming crying to Hank. It did, however, bring clarity and he knew that he would have to do more than just apologise to Sixty. He'd have to swallow his pride, lay out his worries, not to make excuses for his behaviour but to outline what had set him off on such a bad path.

Hank slept lightly, waking occasionally just to make sure Connor was alright. By the time Connor woke up properly though, Hank was back to being asleep, arms wrapped firmly around him and face tucked against the back of his neck.

It was oddly domestic, Connor getting up to let Sumo out and feed him before starting on breakfast. The juxtaposition of it all made him giggle a little hysterically before pulling himself together.

Grabbing his phone, he sent his brothers a text, asking them to meet him that evening. Next, he grabbed breakfast and returned to the bedroom to wake Hank and maybe try and find a way forward after the clusterfuck that the last few days had been.

Hank slowly woke as he noticed the lack of a warm body next to him. The immediate worry was that Connor had left, but the sounds of someone moving in the house were enough to assuage that. By the time Connor came back to wake him, Hank was sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” He asked, giving Connor a drowsy smile.

"Like a steamrolled piece of shit warmed in a microwave," Connor replied with a self-deprecating smile. "I brought you breakfast to apologise for the mess I was last night. And to maybe ask if we can talk it over, with perhaps a slightly smaller meltdown from my end."

“Breakfast sounds like a great start to an apology.” Hank replied, stretching and then managing to get up off the bed, “Does it include coffee?” 

“And as for talking this over, I think that sounds like a great idea. I’m more than happy to do that with you.”

Perhaps breakfast over a table was a better idea than in bed and Connor followed Hank's lead and walked back to the kitchen.

"Coffee was a given. How long have we been together?" The words almost got choked off by the worry that maybe they were no longer true. Rather than say anything, Connor swallowed thickly and sat down in the chair without anything in front of it.

"Breakfast first? Or do you want to talk as you eat?"

Hank chuckled softly as he sat down, choosing to ignore the worry he heard in Connor’s voice. “Good point. You know how terrible I am without my coffee.” He grabbed the breakfast Connor had prepped and slid it towards himself, exclaiming “This looks great, as always.”

He took a moment to consider before replying “Eat first. You too, Con, no sense worrying on an empty stomach.”

It would have been a good suggestion, except Connor hadn't made any food for himself. Not hungry and not feeling like he deserved it either. He felt a little silly now as he shook his head.

"I'll just take Sumo into the garden while you eat," he muttered.

Hank frowned, picking up a piece of toast and waving it at Connor across the table. “Watching you do this weird punishment thing is gonna put me off my breakfast.” He grumbled, then softened to add “Seriously, this isn’t about punishing you to make up for whatever you did. We just need to talk about how we can move forward.”

"Sorry," Connor murmured and took the toast, nibbling at its corner. "I'm nervous and don't know what to do with myself."

He didn't want to say that he was feeling sick with anticipation and not in a good way.

“That’s okay. I get that you’re upset, I just don’t want you making this harder than it has to be.” Hank tried to reassure him, “Breakfast won’t take long.”

He didn’t scarf the food down, but he made an effort to hurry so Connor didn’t have to wait too long. Once hank was done he pushed the plate aside and said “Alright, where do you want to start?”

Wasn't that the question of the century? There was so much to say but Connor didn't know where to start. He stared at the table for a long while, trying to figure it out.

"I guess none of the explanations matter if there is no hope of a future for us. Unless there's something you wanted to ask?"

Hank decided to lay things out plainly so that they could actually start talking about what was going on.

“I don’t want to break up with you Connor. Not when you clearly feel terrible about what you’ve done, and want to change. We’ve all done shit like that, the only reason I was so harsh earlier was because, well, you didn’t seem remorseful and that scared me.”

It scared Connor too. He hadn't realised just quite how much like Amanda's partner he had been. His shoulders slumped as he chewed on the edge of the toast.

"I'm so sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to. I was, and still am, so scared for Sixty. I work with Gavin, know what he's like despite all his bluster so I know Nines is safe. But all I've seen of Allen were how he's leaving bruises and pain in his wake. How does Sixty not see that?"

Hank was thoughtfully silent as he listened to Connor explain. It was lucky he wasn’t a younger man, who was going to explode in defense of his friend. Instead, he looked across the table seriously and said “You just said it yourself - you don’t know Fletcher at all. He’s about the farthest from an abuser I know, and I’ve known him for a long time now.” 

Hank sighed, and admitted “I know it looks bad, and I understand that with your past experiences the urge to lash out is natural. But I honestly believe that these couple of injuries are accidental. How many times has Gavin come back looking like he got mugged after he’s with Nines?”

"And how many times has Nine come home looking like he lost a fight against a low IQ vampire?" Connor replied and sighed burying his face in his hands. "I've fucked up. A sorry isn't going to cut it here. What do I do?"

Hank nodded sagely as Connor started to understand the point he was trying to make. 

“I think that answer is different for everyone involved here. I think a genuine apology to anyone you hurt is a good start. And as for me, I...well, mostly I want you to promise me you won’t lash out like that again without first talking it through. That was so dangerous for you, and I don’t want to see it again.”

The serious nod Connor gave was all he could muster. He didn't know what else to really say so fell back on the old habit of letting the other party fill the silence but asking questions.

"Is there anything I can do to make up for the hurt I caused you? Or any questions you've been holding back on?"

He braced himself for whatever Hank would come up with.

“I don’t think now is the right time to ask questions.” Hank admitted slowly, “We have things to talk about, and I have some questions, but that’s a discussion I think we should have later, when you’re not miserable.” He had enough demons in his own closet that he knew how tough it was to talk about things even when you were in the best position. Which Connor was not right now.

“But you know what would make me feel a little better? Talking through how you intend to apologize to everyone else.” Hank offered. He didn’t want Connor to struggle through that alone, plus he didn’t want him to try and weasel out of anything.

A deep breath and a nod was all Connor muster. He was already aware he had really fucked up and having a list of people to apologise to really drove that home.

"Sixty, Nines, you, Allen," he reeled off, "anyone else you can think of?"

Hank shook his head, confirming “Those are all the people I would think of.” He paused, watching Connor carefully, and added, “Apologizing is a bitch, but you gotta do it right, okay?”

A flash of annoyance flared in Connor's chest.

"I know, okay?" he snapped. "I fucked up and I need to apologise. No need to doubt me so much. I'm a piece of shit but not that bad."

Hank simply raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his coffee. Well, that answered his question as to whether or not Connor was still in the pits of despair. If he was feeling good enough to be snappy, he probably wasn’t going to burst into tears again.

"I guess you need to go on that list twice, sorry." Connor glanced away again. He sighed and pushed against the table.

"I don't think an apology card will be enough but I don't know what will suffice. Any ideas?"

“Try to understand my side of things okay? I’m just checking in to make sure you’re not going to do something stupid again.” Hank said, a gentle reminder that he hoped Connor would take the right way, “I’m just trying to help.”

The answer to the actual question was easy, at least in Hank’s mind. “Nothing like a real, honest, face to face apology.” He said, “But I may be a bit old fashioned on that one.”

That was something Connor could do. He took a deep breath and straightened up, looking Hank in the eyes.

"I am truly sorry for worrying you yesterday. What I did was wrong, stupid and dangerous. I recognise how reckless my actions were and know it will take a long while to build and kind of trust between us up again. All I can ask is that you give me the time and the chance to do that."

He could only hope that was enough and the kind of thing Hank was after.

Hank met Connor’s gaze and held it as he apologized, giving his boyfriend his full attention. It was what he deserved, if he was going to make an honest effort. Once he had finished speaking, Hank reached across the table and took his hands, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Apology accepted, Connor. Thank you for talking this through with me, that means a lot. We’ll work on what comes next together, okay?”

Forgiveness couldn't be that easy. Connor refused to believe that Hank would let it all slide, just because he said a few heartfelt words. He didn't know whether to question it or argue against being so easily allowed forgiveness without penance.

It was like Hank could see the wheels spinning in Connor’s head, and he gently patted at his hands to try and draw him out of it. “You with me, Con?” He asked, “I don’t need you to grovel or anything to be forgiven, but we’re not going to stop talking about this or working on your behavior, which is the important part.”

A question that had been lurking in the back of Connor's mind finally crystallised and he stared at Hank with wide eyes.

"How do we work on it though? It's not like I can change overnight, is it?"

He feared that despite their best intentions, there was nothing that could be done to actually make a significant change for the better.

Hank shook his head, replying “That’s what sucks about changing yourself. It’s hard work and it takes time.” He thought back to some of the terrible habits he’d had to break, and sighed, meeting Connor’s gaze and offering a reassuring smile.

“The trick is to just work at it every day. Every time you have a chance, do better. And if you slip up or make a mistake again, own up to it and then get back to work.”

It seemed reasonable enough, Hank had such a knack for making things sound so much more manageable. It was probably why he was so good at his job. Sighing, Connor's eyes strayed to the clock and he cursed.

"I need to run Sixty to the precinct. He's not safe to ride until the swelling's gone down." He stood from his seat and offered Hank a pained smile. "I'm truly sorry for everything. I will work on being better, I promise."

Hank nodded as Connor stood up, saying "We'll work on it together. Now you go take care of your brother, I've gotta get ready for work myself." It felt strange not to have Connor come around the table and give him a kiss goodbye, but Hank supposed that was an unfortunate downside he was just going to have to get used to.

Getting onto his bike, Connor tried to clear his head. Maybe he could apologise to Sixty this morning and tentatively organise to apologise to Allen through him. He kicked the bike into life and shook his head. He's forgotten to kiss Hank. Turning the bike off, he ran back to the door and rang the doorbell.

Hank was still sitting at the table, sighing to himself as he tried to gather up the energy to go to work. It wasn’t like he had particularly slept well, and he was worried about Connor still. He supposed there was nothing for it, so he stood up with a grunt and looked down at Sumo for reassurance.

The doorbell surprised him, and Hank headed to the door, opening it to see Connor. “Everything alright Con?” He asked, sudden worry spiking in his heart.

"I forgot the most important thing," Connor replied. He gently pulled Hank down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Thank you and see you later." With that, he was back on his bike and riding off before Hank had a chance to do anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allen and Connor's paths cross yet again...
> 
> This chapter directly follows [Chapter 23 of Rev My Engines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/59267704)!

Hank was stunned into silence, but in a good way. It felt nice, to have Connor kiss him like that. Even nicer to hear him be so sweet. It made him more hopeful for how they could work towards building their relationship back up from there. 

He watched Connor drive off with a soft smile, then turned back into the house to get ready for work with renewed energy.

As Connor made his way towards Sixty's house, he spied a familiar figure on a black bike leaving it. The odds of seeing Allen like this were so small, it felt like fate was trying to intervene. Inspired, Connor turned to follow him, hoping to get his attention and apologise.

Allen was just trying to ride to work when he spotted the unmistakably gaudy bike of Connor heading his way. On this street, it had to be obvious where Allen had just been, so when Connor turned to follow him it didn’t take a genius to assume he was going to make another attempt at murder. This time, Allen wasn’t about to lay down and take it. He revved his bike, gunning the engine as he sped away from Connor.

All Connor had wanted to do was talk to Allen and apologise. To see the man speeding off in some petty act of revenge was infuriating. However, Connor swallowed down his pride, he needed to do this for Sixty at least, if not for himself. He sped up, trying to reach Allen.

They were too far apart, Connor could only yell when he saw the car turning out of the junction, clearly not seeing Allen on his bike. It was like watching it happen in slow motion and Connor was helpless to do anything but watch.

Allen wasn’t paying as much attention to the road as he should have been. He was checking in his rear-view mirror constantly to make sure he was losing Connor, who in his mind was a serious threat. Which was why he didn’t notice the car violating his right of way until it was too late.

Allen felt the impact of the collision and suddenly he was flying through the air. He had two very dim thoughts as he was airborne: the first being that it was lucky he was wearing his helmet, and the second being that he was going to upset Sixty again. Then he hit the ground and there was just a lot of pain to think about.

Connor gunned his engine and screeched towards the accident, he was off his bike as soon as he could get close and was rushing towards Allen's crumpled body, phone in his hand.

"Pick up, damnit, pick up!" He growled. "Sixty! Allen's come off his bike, car hit him. Talk me through what I'm doing."

On the other end of the line, Sixty was silent for one second. Then he was barking orders, demanding location. Safety be damned, he was going to beat the first responders there.

Kneeling by Allen, Connor tipped the darkened visor of his helmet up to check whether he was conscious.

Allen’s world was spinning, his head reeling from the impact of being thrown off the bike and hitting the ground. His whole body hurt, but it was hard to pinpoint why or how. His jacket was askew, he could feel how it had been pulled by the impact. Maybe that was why his neck and shoulder hurt? It was hard to concentrate.

Suddenly there was a blinding light as his visor was tipped back, and Allen instinctively flinched. His eyes tried to focus unsuccessfully on the person above him, only getting a vague shape. “Six....? M sorry....” he slurred, upset that his boyfriend had to see him crash again.

"Hey Fletcher," Connor tried to keep his voice soft and reassuring. "Took a nasty tumble, didn't you?"

He pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder as he took in the state of Allen on the ground.

"Conscious, confused but trying to talk," he ran the report to Sixty. "Oh fuck."

His eyes were caught on a flash of silver around Allen's neck. The screeches of "what?!" from the other end of the phone fell into background noise as Connor lifted them. An all too familiar name glinted on them.

"You really love him," he murmured and Sixty fell silent. "Just come see to him until the ambulance gets here. He needs you."

Doing his best to reel in his own emotions, Connor offered Allen a hesitant smile.

"You've got nothing to be sorry about. It's me who should be apologising but I'll do it when you're a bit better."

Allen was trying to keep his eyes open, which was somehow a monumental effort. The burning pain was starting to solidify further into his chest and his shoulder, tears starting to sting the corners of his eyes and making him blink.

"Careful....those're 'portant." Allen slurred when he felt the dogtags get moved around his neck. He couldn't really understand what this person was saying, but the more he spoke the more he became aware that it wasn't his boyfriend. His breath hitched awkwardly as he realized just how bad he wanted to see Sixty right now.

As tears started to threaten, Connor tried to reassure Allen. Things were going to be okay, the ambulance was on its way, the pain would go away soon.

"Hurry," he hissed into his phone before turning back to Allen. "They sure are important. You and I both know that this is more than just some pieces of metal. You hold Sixty's heart."

Now Connor felt like a real asshole. He should have listened to Sixty, talked to him rather than step in all hot headed and try to take control. There was the sound of a bike screaming down the road, looking up, he was relieved to see it was the distinctive purple of Sixty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find out what happens to Allen back over in [Rev My Engines'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/59454550) Chapter 24!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic should really just be titled 'Connor continues to have a bad time' :(
> 
> This chapter happens concurrently with [Chapter 35 of Rev My Engines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/61376875) and [Chapter 1 of Stabilizers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25315246/chapters/61376983)

After Sixty and Allen left, the remaining four continued to fuck around in the quarry, but Hank could tell that Connor was still worried. Well, worried or carrying stress, whatever was the better word for it. It showed in his driving and in the way he carried his body, and Hank decided then and there that they were going to have a nice relaxing evening together after this. He told Connor as much when they were sitting and resting while Nines and Gavin tore donuts around each other.

It was nice Hank cared so much. Connor leaned against him, resting his head against his shoulder.

"It just feels like they're leaving me behind. Like I don't serve a purpose to them anymore. There's more and more secrets, things they leave me out of."

He watched the other two doing more and more stupid things, getting closer and closer until Nines's bike slipped out from under him as he passed Gavin too close. Only an arm around his shoulder stopped him from being swept away and hurt.

Hank was glad to feel Connor leaning against him. It at least reassured him that his boyfriend was accepting and appreciating the attempts to reach out and comfort him. Which was good, after all that had happened.

Hank let out a thoughtful hum as he listened to Connor and watched the almost tragedy in front of him - he was so used to Gavin at this point that he didn’t even flinch.

“I can see how it would feel that way.” Hank admitted, “But I don’t think they’re leaving you behind. From how I see it, you three will never have anyone in your lives as important as each other.”

Despite Hank's reassuring words, Connor couldn't shake the feeling that he was being left behind, no longer useful. His protection was no longer needed when others, more superior than him in pretty much every way could step in and provide.

"Could we go home? Please?" He murmured against Hank's shoulder. For a little while he wanted to feel like he mattered to someone, that he was the centre of someone's universe.

“Of course darling, you come home with me, and we’ll have your favorite dinner. How’s that sound?” Hank replied, reaching a hand around Connor’s waist and giving him a squeeze. He knew Connor needed some extra pampering, and what better way to start than with a good meal.

It sounded like Hank actually cared and Connor sagged in relief.

"Sounds wonderful." He clambered to his feet and walked to his bike, feeling like the weight of his very existence was dragging him down.

A little way away, he saw Nines give a quick wave before tearing off Gavin in hot pursuit a few seconds later. They looked so carefree and in love. Connor was happy for them, he really was.

Watching Gavin and Nines speed off, Hank was actually glad he wasn’t that young and impulsive any more. He loved Connor’s stability (well, most of the time he was stable), and his ability to slow down once in a while. 

Before they started the drive home, Hank pulled up next to Connor and gave his arm a quick squeeze just to reassure him. “Let’s go home.” He said.

Pulling up outside Hank's house, Connor did feel like he was home. He'd taken things a little slower than Hank, lost him at one of the lights, not pushing to slip through last minute. It gave him a chance to take stock, assess where his emotions and thoughts were taking him, figuring out just what he could do about it. Obviously, the most logical but also hardest to do was talk to his brothers.

He dismounted his bike and walked to the front door. Wondered whether he should knock but Sumo's gruff little boofs already gave away the fact that he was there. Taking a moment to remind himself that he loved his brothers, Hank and Sumo, and the fact that they all loved him too, Connor tried to smile as the door opened.

Hank had been worried about losing Connor on the road, but he trusted him to handle himself. Getting home ahead of his boyfriend also gave Hank time to start preparing things for his favorite meal.

When Sumo started barking out, Hank knew Connor had arrived, and went to open the door with a fond smile. “Come on in Con.”

With everything that had gone on, Connor still felt a little out of place and uncertain of his welcome. He wanted so badly to believe that Hank loved him, but he was convinced he didn't deserve it. Not after how irrational and stupid he had been.

Kneeling down, he greeted Sumo after a shy "hello" and a wave sent in Hank's direction.

Hank could tell that Connor was still feeling a little off, which he could understand. But tonight was about making sure that Connor knew he was loved and valued, so Hank came over and pulled him into a big hug after he was done with Sumo.

“A wave just isn’t going to cut it darling” he rumbled with a smile.

"You're right, you deserve so much more." Connor shook a little, all the emotions finally catching up with him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He was crying words stuck on a loop in his mind.

“Oh honey, oh Con...” Hank murmured, pulling Connor into a tighter hug, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. You’re all I want, you’re more than enough for me.” Tonight was going to be a long night, and Hank hated that he had predicted that.

Crying on Hank's living room floor was not how Connor had imagined his evening to go. He tried to pull himself together, stamp out the tears and force himself into a semblance of who he usually was. Or at least pretended to be. Which was someone confident, sensible and kind. Not a nervous wreck.

"Sorry. I guess I got lost in my head there for a moment. I'm okay." He even offered Hank a wobbly smile to prove his point. "Can I help in the kitchen at all? It smells divine, whatever it is that you're making."

Hank watched Connor gather himself with an equal amount of worry. Having a breakdown was bad, but so was bottling everything up awkwardly and pretending it wasn’t happening. They’d get there. He pressed a kiss to Connor’s forehead and offered a comforting smile in return.

“Tuna noodle casserole. And you can help me by coming into the kitchen and eating it in a few minutes.” Hank replied. There really wasn’t anything else to do, aside from dishes, and those were a ‘for later’ chore.

Picking himself up, Connor offered Hank a hand to haul him up. He could do this, he could be what Hank deserved. Which most certainly not a sobbing mess on the floor.

"You really are too good to be true," he whispered. Tuna noodle casserole was his favourite, he wasn't sure whether Hank knew exactly why Connor liked it so much, but just the fact it had been made had his heart fluttering.

“Only for you.” Hank murmured with a fond smile, pulling Connor up and pressing one last kiss to his cheek. He had made dinner special because he knew Connor loved it. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but he had a guess that made his heart ache.

Hank herded then both into the kitchen, plopping Connor down at the table while he went to get the casserole out.

At the table, Connor's phone buzzed with a message. While Hank was busy, he looked at it and sighed, it was from Sixty. Quickly, he typed out a reply.

We're good. Always were, always will be.

No doubt they were going to have to have yet another chat but that could wait. Connor needed to get his own head straight first. He looked up as Hank approached with the dish, it really did smell amazing and his mouth watered.

Hank was also replying to a text from Sixty, but slid his phone away to bring the casserole to the table. He set it down and happily plopped down across the table to start dishing out portions. 

“Here, a nice big portion just for you.” He said, sliding the plate across to Connor with a pleasant wink.

It really was a generous portion, plated almost perfectly. Connor clamped his bottom lip between his teeth to stop it from wobbling. Something had to be thoroughly broken in him if he was getting emotional over a plate of food.

"It looks worthy of being in an advert," he managed to grit out without his voice breaking. "Thank you."

Hank hid his worry by reaching over and patting Connor on the hand reassuringly. “I’m glad you think it looks so good, cause I made a lot.” He said, “Dig in.”

Hank carefully began to eat his own portion, trying to subtly encourage Connor to eat his as well.

It almost felt wrong to ruin and eat something as perfect as what Hank had put in front of him but Connor daintily pressed his fork into it and took a bite. It tasted as amazing as it looked. A thought about whether he deserved it made his hand waver and he didn't realise his tears had started up again until one splashed onto the edge of his plate. Wiping at his face furiously, Connor tried to brush it all off.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me."

Except he did know. Year old hurts and worries had been ripped open and he was drowning in them, barely keeping his head above the metaphorical water to pretend he was okay.

“It’s okay. Connor, seriously...you don’t have to pretend with me here.” Hank said softly, looking at Connor trying to hold it together over a plate of noodles. It was breaking his heart to see his boyfriend upset like this, especially knowing that the best thing he could probably do right now was let Connor fall apart somewhere safe.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re hurting, and that’s okay.”

It was beyond logic why Hank hadn't pulled Connor up on his behaviour. Such a shameful display was so unbecoming, Connor found himself falling back into old habits quickly and figuring out what punishment was befitting of his crimes. No food, he didn't deserve such a wonderful meal. That had been one of the first things Elijah had drummed into them, allowing them to dole out their own punishment. Though if he ever thought they weren't severe and strict enough on themselves, he would dish out something so much worse.

Words were trying to bubble out from behind his teeth but it was all such a muddle. Connor tried to breathe through it but seemed to be failing even at that.

Hank’s frown deepened in concern as he watched Connor struggle to even come up with words to describe his problem. Standing up, he pulled his chair over to sit next to his boyfriend and wrap a comforting hand around his shoulders.

“You’re safe here Connor, I want you to breathe with me, okay?” Hank said, keeping his voice low and calm. He could feel the way Connor’s body was shaking, not pulling in enough air while on the verge of crying.

A wretched sob was all Connor had the capacity for. It broke the dam he had tried so desperately to keep in place. All the fear, the hopelessness and the shame burst forth. He tried to follow Hank's breathing, he really did but that got lost in the storm of his emotions and all Connor could do was cling to Hank, his last rock in it all.

Hank simply bundled Connor up in his arms, holding him gently as he broke down. It was upsetting to feel him break down like this, but it really was for the best, Hank knew this. He gently rocked the two of them as best he could, trying to soothe Connor through his tears.

Crying so hard was exhausting, Connor couldn't keep it up for long. He slumped in Hank's arms, shivering and hiccoughing miserably.

"I'm sorry I ruined dinner. It's all I seem to do recently. Destroy and drive everyone away." If he'd had the energy, he would have cried more but, as it was, he could only whimper sadly to himself.

Hank shook his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Connor’s head. “You haven’t ruined anything. This stuff heats up real well.” Hank reassured him, deciding to take a practical approach to counteract the wild ideas running through Connor’s head.

“And you haven’t driven anyone away either. Who all was with us just earlier today? And who’s here with you right now?”

There was no arguing with reality but Connor was an expert at twisting it to fit the narrative he had in his head. His brothers had left him that afternoon, hidden things from him, were slowly excising him from their lives. By the same merit, maybe Hank was only keeping him around out of pity. Hopefully not because the DPD couldn't afford to waste time recruiting someone instead of Connor. Even Hank wasn't that mercenary to fake interest in someone just to save on his own workload.

Defeated, he rested his head on Hank's shoulder. It didn't matter. Not anymore. Sixty had found happiness with Allen, Nines with Gavin. They'd finally found an out from their family, a way to get away from Connor and the past.

“I can hear you thinking in there. I need you to stop.” Hank said gently, stroking a hand across Connor’s head where it lay on his shoulder. “Just focus on where we are right now, and the fact that I love you very much and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Hank knew all about getting in your own head and twisting things around, so he was trying to ground Connor more firmly in reality, if only for a moment.

Bitterly, Connor sniffed and cleared his throat.

"Maybe you should go. Run as far as you can. I'm not sure I can be good for anyone."

He wanted so badly to shore up his defences again, to go back to how things used to be. But that wasn't a possibility. His true, ugly core had been exposed and that wasn't something anybody could love. It was a discussion he was sure they had before, but sometimes opinions were all but impossible to change.

That hurt to hear, Hank hearing his own voice echoing back at him through Connor’s mouth. How often had he thought that, or said it when he was drunk? That he was unlovable, and no one should bother trying to care for him... but Fletcher and Gavin had pulled him through it, and now here he was. Not the best, but at least strong enough to stand on his own two feet. 

“Or maybe I should stay right here. You’re good for me, Con. Even if you have shit days.” Hank insisted firmly, the conviction in his voice clear. “You stuck with an old guy like me, put up with my terrible housekeeping and weird friends...I think you’re doing just fine.”

If this was doing just fine Connor dreaded to think not fine looked like. Because this certainly didn't feel fine.

"But you have friends. People who chose you. Not even my own flesh and blood want me anymore." His lips wobbled precariously. It was so tempting to give into his exhaustion and sleep but he didn't even deserve that. Connor was struggling to think of a fitting punishment actually. Maybe it was time to ask Hank and bear the consequences.

"I don't know what I deserve. I fucked up so bad over and over again. Allen's bike, then threatening him, then arguing with you before having a breakdown. Then I get angry at Sixty for having tattoos. At Nines for defending him. And I have the gall to ruin a lovely dinner with you by throwing myself yet another pity party."

It was a long list, overwhelmingly so. Connor had been so careful not to mess up for so long and now he had gone and really screwed everything up. He deserved a punishment worse than he could possibly imagine.

“Hey. Look at me.” Hank said, gently guiding Connor up by the chin, “You fucked up, yeah. So did I. So has literally everyone else that was in the quarry. But they’re still here, and so am I. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Hank had a feeling they weren’t going to get much further tonight, with Connor feeling so bad. Looking back at the casserole he asked “Do you want to eat any more? You should probably drink some water, and then we can call it a night.” Luckily Hank wasn’t opposed to an early night or to just shoving the whole casserole into the fridge. It would be fine.

It was a crime to leave the casserole uneaten so Connor reached for his fork, releasing Hank from their huddle.

"We should eat. I don't want to make you sad  _ and _ hungry." He stabbed at the food before chancing a small look up at Hank. "Thank you. For not giving up on me. And not abandoning me."

That was his greatest fear in a way. After everything that had happened and how he had tried to be there for others when they needed him, he feared that he would only ever be kept around while useful, while he still plugged a gap.

Hank stayed close, but he did reach across the table and grab his own half eaten casserole to finish eating. Not being hungry would probably help Connor’s mood as well, so it was good that they both finished dinner. 

“You’re welcome, even though you don’t have to thank me for that. I’m not giving up on you, promise.” Hank said, meeting Connor’s gaze and holding it with a smile. 

As they finished off the casserole, Hank made sure that Connor drank some water as well, trying to give his body as good a shot as any of not feeling terrible post-cry.

Truth be told, Connor's head was pounding. All that crying really hadn't done him any favours.

"May I help clear the table and do the washing up?" he asked softly just in time for his phone to ping with a message from Nines on their group chat. Glancing at it, he was glad he was sitting down though no doubt he paled.

Hank had been just about to answer Connor when he saw him pale. “What’s wrong?” He asked, concern written all over his face. Internally, he really hoped that neither of the brothers hadn’t decided to start a fight. That wasn’t what they needed at all right now.

Wordlessly, Connor pushed his phone towards Hank. He was happy for Nines and Gavin, he really was. But he didn't think he had the emotional capacity to deal with that kind of news right now.

"Could you write a response for me? Please?"

Hank read the text and looked back up at Connor, biting back the excited grin at the idea of Gavin getting married. God, and Gavin being the first to get married. He was going to be insufferable.

But Hank understood how this might be tough for Connor right now, so he just nodded and reached out to pat him gently on the hand before taking the phone. 

Congratulations! Excited for both of you.

The reply text from Sixty came just as Connor's hand closed around his phone again.

About time you had someone to keep you on your toes in and out of the bedroom Neenaw, question is, who proposed?

Also, whoever has Con's phone - who are you and what have you done to my brother? This kind of news should have elicited more screeching and keyboard mashing.

Connor stared at the message. Even his brothers were expecting him to be a drama queen. About good news too. He felt like the biggest piece of shit on the planet and had half a mind to reply, telling them just how sorry he was for being, well, himself. The intent was hindered by blurry vision though. He really shouldn't have drunk more water, it only got turned into more tears.

Hank groaned softly as he looked over Connor's shoulder and saw the message. This was terrible timing. Gently, he reached over and took the phone again, lifting it out of Connor's hands. If he typed out something bad now, it would sour the atmosphere even further and lead to worse outcomes. 

Connor's a bit occupied right now. He'll be back at the phone tomorrow. -H Hank typed out, before pocketing the phone. The brothers could interpret that however they wanted. Right now, his focus was on Connor.

Gratitude poured from Connor as he sagged. Not having to deal with his brothers in his current state was probably for the best. He would only sour the joy of the news. Staring up at Hank, he was at an utter loss, it seemed, they were back at square one once again. Much like the time Hank had put him into place after the incidents with Allen, Connor was no longer sure of his welcome. He felt like he should go but didn't know how and where. Helpless, he looked up at Hank with watery eyes.

Hank could tell that Connor didn’t know what to do, but he was more than happy to take control again. Tonight was about making sure Connor felt loved and wanted, and Hank wasn’t going to fail. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to Connor’s forehead before straightening up. “I’m going to put the casserole away, why don’t you go change into your pajamas.” He suggested, tone gentle but directive. It was a good reminder that Connor had full sets of clothes and other things stored here at Hank’s house.

That was something Connor could do. Mutely, he got up and shuffled towards the bedroom, knowing he had some stuff there.

Standing in front of the open wardrobe, he stared, lost in thought. Sure, he had his own set of pyjamas there but all he really wanted was to take one of Hank's t-shirts and curl up in that. Hesitantly, he reached for one before he snatched his hand back. That comfort wasn't something he deserved, certainly not now and maybe never again. Eyes glued to the t-shirt he had denied himself, he reached for his own pyjamas slowly.

Hank finished stuffing the casserole into the fridge without much grace, then he checked to make sure Sumo had everything he needed before heading to the bedroom himself. It felt like a normal night, which was good. That was what Hank wanted.

What he didn't like was coming to the bedroom door and watching Connor hesitating in front of their wardrobe. He looked like he  _ wanted _ to grab something else but was instead eyeing his own pajamas like they might bite him.

"You can wear whatever you want to bed, sweetheart. You know my stuff's all fair game." Hank chuckled from his vantage point.

Flustered at being caught in his moment of weakness, Connor gripped the pyjamas already in his hand tighter.

"Thank you. But I won't dirty one of your t-shirts when I have some perfectly functional pyjamas of my own." He was proud of how even his voice was coming across as. Clutching at the clothes, he shuffled a little. Before all this mess, he wouldn't have thought twice about getting changed in front of Hank, but now, Connor was no longer certain of his place in the world and how he fit in anywhere. Couldn't figure out what was just his own insecurities and what was reality.

Hank crossed the room to stand in front of Connor, hands coming to rest on his hips. He wasn't sure what was going on in his boyfriend's head, so he wasn't going to bother trying to talk him out of it. 

"May I?" He asked instead, fingers tugging ever so gently on the edge of Connor's shirt. It was a strange role reversal, him being the one to encourage Connor to be more confident undressing. But Hank didn't mind it, so long as it returned some sort of return to normalcy for the evening.

Like a doll, Connor let himself be stripped out of his clothes. He wasn't body shy, not in front of Hank anyway. It was more that didn't know anymore what was allowed and what wasn't. To Connor, it was inevitable that Hank would leave him, everyone else did after all. They all found someone better eventually. Connor never was and never would be enough for anyone.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, staring at the button on Hank's shirt. "I only seem to cause trouble no matter what. And I can't even be happy for my own brother's engagement. What the hell is wrong with me?"

If he had any more tears, they would have been streaming down his face. As it was, he just stood there, stricken to the core and helpless to do anything.

Moving carefully but with a purpose that allowed for no refusal, Hank pulled out one of his shirts he knew Connor always loved wearing and pulled it over his head. “That’s better.” He said, patting Connor gently on the chest before starting to shoo him over towards the bed.

“Of course you’re happy for your brother.” Hank said, “You’re just having a rough night. In the morning you can congratulate him properly, for now you need to just be here with me, where we can both enjoy each other’s company.”

Climbing onto the bed, Connor knelt on the covers and picked at the skin on his thumb in agitation.

"I haven't brushed my teeth," he murmured. "And I don't think my company is particularly enjoyable right now. You deserve so much better. Probably better than I can ever give."

He was on the verge of offering to leave, to even never come back. Because Hank deserved another shot at unbridled happiness. Connor had helped get him back up from the pits of despair. However, he'd never been kept around long after someone climbed over him to get better. By nature, Connor was a ladder, people could use him to get up but nobody pulled him up too once they were done with him.

“Shhhh. Connor, don’t talk like that.” Hank insisted, frowning as he stripped off his own jeans and climbed into bed in his boxers and a t-shirt. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I’m not going to stand by and let you be so cruel to the man I’m in love with.” He said, pulling Connor into a hug as soon as he was close enough. 

“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Hank added, pressing a kiss to Connor’s temple, “And I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up. Because you’re what I want.”

The words made Connor shiver. He found it so difficult to believe them. However, he didn't want to argue, didn't want to make Hank feel even more pity for him. Instead, Connor pressed his face against Hank's chest, trembling lightly. He wasn't crying but he wasn't sure what his body was doing anymore either. Too tired, too stressed and too sad, he fell asleep instead of bothering with anything else.

Hank held Connor close until he felt him relax into sleep. Then he readjusted, making sure they would both be comfortable while still staying close all night. He had a feeling Connor would need the reassurance when he woke up in the morning. Hank fell asleep with little trouble, allowing the worries of the day to be brushed aside by sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor finally confront the looming elephant in the room: therapy

Morning came far too quickly. Connor woke and for a few blissful moments didn't have a recollection of anything from the previous day. Then it was all flooding back and he inhaled sharply, instinct driving him away from Hank and onto the cold, hard floor.

Hank was too asleep to stop Connor when he suddenly woke up and took a dive for the floor. But he certainly woke up fast as he heard the sound of his boyfriend’s body slamming onto the ground. “Connor? Connor, god, are you okay?” Hank called out, scrambling to the edge of the bed, worry driving him despite his grogginess.

Winded, Connor tried to suck in a pained breath and failed. His back arched as he made another attempt at a breath.

"Hank," he wheezed, a hand reaching for his boyfriend.

“Oh Connor, honey, it’s okay. I’m here.” Hank soothed, reaching out and taking Connors hand. He was leaning down off the bed, trying to make sure Connor was okay but not trusting his own limbs to take him off the bed gracefully just yet.

Clinging to the hand, Connor did his best to calm down but the pain and surprise of his fall was making it difficult. A few tears escaped his eyes as he finally managed to suck in a breath.

The floor wasn't the most comfortable place to lie but he couldn't quite muster up the energy or coordination to move just yet. At least each breath came a little easier.

Hank squeezed Connor’s hand as he woke up himself, blinking away the fuzzy outline of the body on the ground and seeing with worry that Connor was crying again. With a bit of a groan, Hank eventually managed to lever himself off the bed and onto the ground next to Connor, pulling him gently into his lap. 

“That was a nasty tumble, huh?” He murmured, “You alright now?”

"I'm okay, sorry," Connor grasped, voice hoarse. "Just the shock. Couldn't breathe." After a small disbelieving laugh, Connor shook his head. "I didn't want to die."

As nonsequitur as that seemed, that was all he could think while struggling to breathe. Nothing else mattered. Just making it through so he could apologise to Hank and make amends in his family - blood and otherwise.

“I don’t want that either” Hank agreed with a little chuckle, shaking his head, “What would I do without you?” That was...hm, that wasn’t pleasant to think about, and Hank distracted himself by running his fingers gently through Connor’s hair.

It was a small struggle to sit up and Connor's breath caught in his throat for a second at some sharp pain but it quickly faded. The muscles of his back were not thanking him for his little misadventure.

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess," he sighed, pressing his head into Hank's hand. "Yesterday just topped off everything, played into all worries and insecurities I've been trying so hard to ignore."

“It’s alright. It was just bad timing, that’s all. Sometimes all it takes is a little thing to set a person off.” Hank reassured him, brushing the hair delicately back off his forehead. He had certainly been there himself, where something seemingly innocuous had been enough to set him spiraling.

The cowlick that was the bane of Connor's life flopped back into its usual place. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes with a small yawn.

"I think I'm ready to sleep for a whole year right about now. It might let me subconsciously sort through all my shit and when I wake up, I'd be a regular, normal person."

That sounded quite nice actually and Connor sighed. Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere.

“I’m not surprised” Hank said with a soft chuckle, teasing at the familiar strand of hair with a finger, “You had a rough day yesterday, being so upset is tiring. You’re welcome to go back to bed for a bit.”

He honestly wouldn’t mind - Connor getting rest while Hank puttered around the house and took care of Sumo sounded nice. He could also use that time to make a good hearty breakfast for the both of them.

Taking a glance at the bed longingly, Connor sighed. A lie-in did sound heavenly and while he probably wouldn't sleep, he could probably start making amends with his brothers.

"Only if you don't mind. But I can help around the house instead. I'm just stupid, not an invalid."

“You’re neither of those things” Hank said, patting Connor comfortingly on the head, “And I’m happy that you’re getting the rest.” Part of him was tempted to follow Connor into bed, but his back wouldn’t thank him for that later, stiff as it already was.

"Maybe you could come join me for a bit? Or come back after you've done whatever it is you needed sorting?" He knew he was pushing his luck but the risk in that moment felt worth it.

“I will absolutely be back once I’ve let Sumo out and grabbed us some breakfast.” Hank reassured, leaning down for one more kiss to the top of Connor’s head before he ushered him back into the bed.

The bed was still warm and Connor curled up on his side all too easily, letting himself be tucked in. It was nice, soothing even and he only realised he had forgotten to ask for his phone back. It didn't matter though, sleep was already pulling him back under.

Hank had never intended to give Connor his phone back. What he needed now was rest, not more opportunities to beat himself up. He didn't bother to check Connor's phone as he went to let out Sumo, but did check his own. 

In the group chat between the three of them, Allen had sent  Congrats on the engagement Gav, you fucker. We'll get the cushions ready for work, since I doubt you'll be able to sit comfortably for the next two days.

It was surprising how easily Connor not only fell back to sleep but actually stayed that way too. There were no nightmares, not half lucid moments where he thought he was behind on a deadline or worried about someone. Instead, it was just blissful, restful sleep like he had been wishing for.

Hank puttered around the house quietly, letting Sumo out and making breakfast. When he finally returned with two heaping plates to share, Connor was so peaceful it made Hank smile. It was a shame to wake him up, but he needed to eat. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Hank murmured “Darling, it’s time to wake up.”

Sitting up, Connor glanced around with a small, sleepy frown. His eyes landed on the plates and they widened.

"I don't think I've done anything to deserve that," he mumbled with a yawn.

“You don’t have to deserve breakfast.” Hank said with a soft chuckle, “I want to treat you.” He shuffled onto the bed and pulled the tray with him, settling them in nice and cozy.

"That's not the mentality I was raised with." Connor looked away then, fearing he had said too much. Clearing his throat, he looked up again. "What I mean is, it looks lovely, thank you so much."

“I know.” Hank said softly, handing the plate to Connor, “Which is why I’m telling you I want you to have this.” Watching Connor eat was going to make Hank happy, which he would gladly admit to.

Old rules warred against the desire to please and Connor hesitated for a moment too long. In the end, he took the offered plate with a shy dip of his head.

"Thank you," he said again. The food did indeed smell delicious and Connor found himself ravenous. Once a fork was in his hand, he began tucking in with gusto.

Hank waited patiently, knowing that Connor was probably dealing with a lot more than just a plate of food in his hands. “You’re very welcome” Hank said with a smile, digging into his own plate with similar enthusiasm.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, Connor was busy trying to gather his thoughts, sifting through what was conditioned into him and what his actual emotions were. The overriding fear was still there, along with the worthlessness but in the light of the morning, they didn't bite as sharp.

Stomach full but plate not yet clear, Connor pushed the remaining food around. He didn't want the meal to go to waste but he really couldn't face eating any more in that moment.

Hank looked up from mopping up the last off his plate, shooting Connor a reassuring smile. “Want me to finish that off for you?” He offered. He was always game for more breakfast, and it seemed like that might lessen Connor’s guilt in not finishing his meal. That guilt around food was something Hank was determined to break.

Ashamed, Connor offered his plate to Hank with a meek "sorry" as he bit his lip anxiously. At least the food wouldn't be going to waste but he didn't know whether Hank was eating it out of enjoyment or a sense of duty.

"You don't have to eat it if you don't want to," he said and immediately felt foolish.

Hank shook his head, insisting “Con, I’ve always got room for more breakfast.” He gave his stomach a pat for emphasis, shooting his boyfriend a happy smile. It had taken him a while to believe that Connor found his body attractive, and sometimes he still felt ashamed, but today was a good day it seemed.

As he ate, Hank asked “How are you feeling?”

For a brief moment, Connor decided to be a pedant.

"Physically? Just fine. I don't think I've been more well rested in a long time."

He offered Hank a small, cheeky grin to boot. It was absolutely not what Hank was asking and he knew it but Connor wasn't sure how to go about explaining his emotional state to such a generic and open question.

Hank snorted as Connor snarked back at him like that. It was a good sign if he was feeling up to making jokes, in fairness. 

“Well I’m glad. It’s good for ya to be well rested. Take it from an old man.” Hank teased in return, finishing breakfast and setting aside the plates.

"You're not old," Connor shot back out of habit. It was a conversation they'd had many times over and he had been hoping he had dissuaded Hank of such notions.

They needed to talk though, that was almost certain. But Connor didn't know where to start, even if Hank actually wanted to know. Still, he could try to be the responsible one for a change.

"I'm sorry about these last couple of weeks. It's a lot to take on board, I know. Was there anything you wanted to ask at any point?" Putting it out there for Hank to dissect and inspect was difficult, but it was probably the right thing to do.

Hank chuckled, not having really meant the age jab for real this time. It was just a little joke at this point. But Connor’s immediate response was still sweet.

“It’s been a lot, but honestly it’s mostly been rough because I hate seeing you so upset.” Hank admitted, one hand reaching out to land softly on Connor’s leg. “I guess I want to know...how I can support you. It’s hard, feeling like you’re pulling away.”

Sighing, Connor tried to find the right words, ones that could explain or at least help Hank get a glimpse of understanding.

"Growing up, we didn't have much of a support network outside the three of us. Our parents weren't the best, it's why we were taken from them. Amanda tried her best but then Elijah came along it all just went tits up. We couldn't seek help, if we showed weakness, we were punished for it. Suffering alone is what we were taught. It's hard to break away from something so ingrained."

Hank nodded as he listened and tried his best to understand. He felt a real sense of anger wash over him at how terribly these boys had been treated as children. That was a crime, in his opinion, and he would have done worse than just arrest this Elijah guy. He took a few calming breaths (for his sake and for Connor's) before speaking in return.

"I can see why that would make it hard for you to reach out." Hank said slowly, "I'm not asking you to change overnight for my sake. But I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. And I'm not going to punish you, ever. Talk to you, sure, if something gets out of control. But never punish, promise." There was a distant voice in the back of his mind, reminding him 'You were always a soft touch, Henry' but he pushed that away.

"I think old habits dictate that I punish myself anyway," Connor smiled bitterly. "That's what we were taught to do."

He sighed and picked at invisible fluff on the covers. It had been so long since he had talked about growing up. Properly talked that is. He wondered how Sixty and Nines seemed to cope so well in the face of things.

"Well old habits can go fuck themselves" Hank snorted, "You're not a kid any more, Connor. You can make changes to your life." It was harsh, maybe, but Hank didn't like to see Connor sinking into excuses like that for hurting himself. That was just not acceptable in his house.

Sighing, Connor rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He felt old all of a sudden.

"I wish I could drop habits just like that. But I can't. Not when from the age of three or four, I was having to pick out my own punishments. When a parent asks you what you think you deserve for knocking their favourite ashtray to the ground because you were trying to reach the bread bin to eat something, that becomes ingrained. At that age you're painfully honest. Picking out your own punishment fucks you up. Trying to decide which favourite toy should be destroyed because your mum's favourite ashtray is chipped."

Tears were gathering in Connor's eyes again. He hadn't meant to go off on one but he was so tired of having to fight, of having to justify everything he did. It would be the easiest if Hank knew everything, from the ugliest to the nastiest memory. Then he might understand Connor a little better.

Hank shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say next. He understood that things were hard, yes, and they were hard in a way he didn't really understand. But the thought of just nodding along and allowing Connor to keep doing this to himself because it was 'a habit' made him feel sick. The silence stretched out longer than Hank would have liked it to, before he could muster up any kind of words to try and pick through this mess.

"I'm not asking you to drop anything 'just like that'." Hank finally said, "I can only imagine how fucking hard this was on you. And I'm really sorry for that. But...I can't just sit here and say I love you but watch you rip yourself apart like this. I have to try and help you stop."

"Obviously I'm doing something wrong. Because both Nines and Sixty seem to be coping so much better." He sniffed and blinked away the tears that threatened earlier. Then Hank's words sank in and his whole expression softened. "You still love me? After all this?"

"You don't know that." Hank reminded him softly, "Do you ever talk to your brothers about this? Or do you just assume from what they show you?" When Connor acted so surprised at that comment, he frowned, insisting "Of course I do. Just because things get rough doesn't mean I just...stop loving you."

It had been a long time since Connor talked to either of his brothers. He searched for his phone, intent on asking just what they coping strategies were. The patient way Hank held his phone out said a lot about him and Connor was quietly grateful.

"How do you cope with all the shit from growing up?" he spoke as he typed and hit send. The response from Sixty was pretty quick.

Went to war, saw shit so much worse. I now get nightmares about IEDs rather than that. :)

Flashing the answer at Hank, Connor frowned. That definitely did not sound like a good way to cope. His phone beeped again, this time from Nines.

Therapy. What the fuck is wrong with you two?

Hank had to laugh at Nines' response. "See? Both of them are dealing with this too, you just don't get to see it on the surface." He reassured Connor. Setting a hand on his arm, he added "And maybe Nines is right, maybe therapy would be a good thing for you to invest in." Part of him was terrified that Connor  _ hadn't _ ever been to therapy, but he reminded himself of how hard it had been for him to do the same thing and bit his tongue.

In all honesty, Connor was utterly confused. All his life, it had been drilled into him that if he went to therapy, admitted that something was wrong, he could never achieve his dreams and be a detective. Then he wouldn't be able to help those who might have been in a similar situation to what he and his brothers had been in. It was unthinkable. And yet. Nines had done it and kept his job, he knew Hank had gone to some description of it too. Which meant that he might be able to do it too.

"I'm scared I'll lose my job because of it," he finally admitted.

Hank’s brows drew together in a frown at that. “Who told you that? If anything, the DPD will be thrilled to have a more stable detective on the workforce.” He said firmly, deciding it might be appropriate to share some of his own experiences to reassure Connor. He had hesitated before, since he didn’t want to turn this into being about him, but this seemed important.

“Fowler was practically begging me to get help at my worst.” Hank admitted, “And the DPD offers mandatory counselling to officers involved in traumatic events.”

Sagging, Connor sighed, defeated.

"Amanda, Elijah. Fuck. If Elijah ever finds out I've been to therapy, he would ruin my career and job prospects." He looked at Hank with big, sad eyes. "Patient confidentiality means nothing to him."

Hank didn't bother trying to explain away Elijah, because he didn't know the man or what he was capable of. "Connor, are you listening to me? If the DPD finds out you've been going to therapy, nothing will happen. They cannot punish you for this, I promise." There might be some shaming from less than savory coworkers, but there was no way Fowler would punish Connor for something as benign as going to therapy.

Deep down Connor desperately wanted to trust what Hank said. But he was terrified. So scared that Elijah would find out, turn it all on its head, have him fired and hound him from the comfortable life he had managed to eke out.

"I want to try it," he nodded. "It has to be better than this."

He wondered whether Hank ought to know more about Elijah. It felt more like deception rather than omission for his own protection now.

"Hank. When I say Elijah, do you know who I mean?" he asked, softly, carefully, almost hoping he wouldn't have to explain.

"We'll get you set up with someone, promise." Hank said, then added because he was pretty sure Gavin didn't care, "Maybe Gavin or Nines can recommend a therapist." 

When Connor questioned him about Elijah, Hank admitted "I mean, I know he's a bigshot mogul. Lots of money, lots of connections. Elijah Kamski, right?"

"Not just  _ a _ mogul, he is  _ the _ mogul. What he wants, what he says, that's what happens. Legal or not."

Hesitantly, he fired off a message to Nines, asking if there was a therapist he could recommend. His hands were shaking, terrified that he was doing the wrong the thing, leaving himself vulnerable in all the wrong ways.

"What if therapy doesn't help? What if no one can help fix me?"

Hank nodded to show that he understood, but he had little to say about this guy. He was powerful, sure, and big, but Hank didn't give a flying fuck about him. He'd never been good at respecting authority, honestly. 

Placing his own steady hands over Connor's shaking ones, Hank said softly "I'm sure it will help. But if it doesn't we'll find something else. We'll just keep going until we find something that helps you feel better, okay?"

It was difficult to nod but Connor did it anyway. The number Nines gave him looked daunting.

"Could you help make the first appointment? I'm scared." He didn't want to voice how he worried he wouldn't be himself if he changed through therapy. That Hank would stop loving him once he stopped being himself in a certain respect. Knowing it was the right thing to do was utterly different to feeling it was the right direction to be headed in.

"Of course, darlin." Hank reassured him, squeezing his hands. He knew how scary that first step was, and he wanted to help Connor as much as he possibly could. "I'm here to help you the whole way, promise."

"Will you be here after it too? Once I'm no longer a pet project to work on building up." He had seen too many such relationships where one party considered themselves as the one swooping in to rescue the other. Only, when they felt they were no longer depended on, they grew bored and left, looking for the next person to rescue.

Hank had to hold back a disbelieving chuckle. "Connor, I could ask the same of you. You've done so much to help me, and you didn't just ditch me once I was better." He explained, "And I don't intend to do that either. I'm helping you because I want this relationship to last even longer."

Suddenly overwhelmed, Connor did the only thing he could think of. He tackled Hank into a hug, unable to put into words his gratitude and love. Just because he loved someone had never before meant the person had put him first or considered his needs more important than anything else.

"Thank you," he whispered, voice hoarse. "You are too good to me."

Hank caught Connor with a surprised exclamation, tumbling back onto the bed with him in his arms. He couldn’t help but smile, glad beyond anything that Connor seemed to have finally understood him. 

“I’m just as good as you deserve” he murmured in return, pressing a kiss to the side of Connor’s head.

Quietly awed, Connor looked up at Hank.

"I don't think I've ever been told I deserve anything good."

He pressed close against Hank with a sigh, mind trying to work through everything of the last couple of weeks. There were a lot of changes coming but hopefully for the better. Connor was definitely scared but he knew he had the support around him.

"Well, get used to hearing it." Hank said with a smile that hid how sad he felt for Connor right now, "Because I'm going to remind you whenever you need it." He held Connor close as he pressed in, hands working gentle circles up and down his back.

The touches were nice and Connor pressed into them, wanting the physical reassurance. He probably wasn't the sexiest in that moment but he wanted to kiss Hank, have him close in any way he could. "Thank you," he murmured over and over again between kisses.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll deserve a treat, and so does Connor ;D

Hank was just happy to have Connor reacting positively to him. He knew this had been a tough few weeks for the poor guy, and to see him at least relaxing was good. Hank gladly kissed back, the slow and gentle kisses his reply to the thank yous he didn’t think were necessary.

Slowly opening up for more kisses, Connor sighed and moved to pull Hank on top of himself, loving the weight and warmth of another body on top of him. It was a feeling nothing else could ever even hope to replicate. "Could we have sex?" He asked sweetly, sighing into the contact and craving more.

Hank chuckled as Connor pulled him down on top of himself like a blanket. He was a big guy, he knew that, but Connor always made him feel like that was a huge bonus. And how could he say no to a sweet request like that? Hank said as much, adding seriously “As long as you feel up to it darlin. No need to push yourself after such an emotional time if you don’t want to.”

"I'm sure," Connor insisted and guided Hank's lips down against his in a claiming kiss. As well as wanting to express his gratitude, he also did want to have a bit of fun. And mutual orgasm sounded exactly like the kind of thing they needed.

The last thing Hank wanted was for this to turn into some weird ‘payment’ for him being nice. But Connor seemed genuinely interested, and Hank couldn’t deny that the idea of fooling around a bit would be relaxing and pleasant. No matter what they did, honestly. He allowed himself to be guided back into the kiss, sighing happily against Connor’s lips.

Kisses were wonderful but Connor wanted more. He rocked up against Hank, the motion slowly becoming enough to get his cock stirring. Hands flitted against Hank's shirt, tugging lighty, hinting that it should come off. "Please?" Connor breathed against Hank's lips, pleading with big eyes, chest heaving a little.

“I’ve got you” Hank purred, sending that Connor needed him to take over. That pleading was far too sweet, Hank has always held it should be considered borderline illegal. Sitting back slightly, now resting most of his weight on Connor’s hips, Hank stripped his shirt off and tossed it aside, reaching for Connor’s shirt as well and pulling it off. He let his hands linger on his skin as they pulled the material up, enjoying the soft feeling

Pinned from the waist down, Connor was reaching for Hank, running his hands over newly exposed skin with a reverence. He cherished each brush of skin on skin and it was all too easy to tug Hank down. "I want to be good for you," he whispered in his ear.

“You already are,” Hank replied with a smile, his own hands traveling across Connor’s sides. Pressed together like they were, there was little mobility, but Hank still managed a slow roll of his hips. “How do you want me to take you?” He murmured in Connor’s ear, “Like this, on your back? Or do you want to be on top? Or maybe I should flip you over and eat you out.”

So much choice but Connor was certain of one thing, he wanted to see Hank. "I want to see you." Wriggling a little, Connor spread his legs in invitation.

"I'll figure it out as I go then" Hank chuckled. It seemed like Connor was in a particular mood tonight, and he was going to have to take control of the situation. Which he didn't mind one bit. Shifting his weight with a soft grunt, Hank re-situated himself so he was sitting between Connor's legs and could start stripping off his pants and underwear. Once those were out of the way, he lifted one leg and kissed along the calf and down the thigh, taking his time and savoring the sensations.

"What I mean it, I want us facing each other," Connor huffed. "I want to be close to you." As if sex didn't mean closeness but what Connor actually meant was that he craved the intimacy. Even if he didn't come or it wasn't as intensely mind blowing as usual, Connor didn't mind. He just wanted Hank, his attention and love. He squirmed a little as Hank kissed along his leg, a soft giggle leaving his lips as bread and moustache tickled along his skin. In an attempt to not just lie back and take it, Connor struggled up onto his elbows to better see and maybe try to entice Hank up to kiss him on the lips instead.

“Ah, I see.” Hank murmured into Connor’s thigh, knowing his voice would rumble against his skin. “I think I’d like that too” he agreed, “I like looking at you, love. So pretty. So lovely for me” His hands roamed along Connor’s legs and down his sides. As Connor sat up, Hank leaned down to meet him in a kiss. Soft at first, but deepening quickly.

In the bedroom, Connor had always considered himself an equal and took as much as he could give. That was one thing he was determined to stick to and he pulled Hank in for a kiss, legs wrapping around his waist. "I would do anything for you," he said. Technically, he meant in the bedroom in that moment but the more he thought about it, the more he realised the statement applied to Hank in general everyday life.

Hank simply smiled and kissed Connor harder, slipping his tongue inside his mouth. He knew that Connor would do anything for him, and honestly, that was a little weighty for the mood right now. For now, Hank just wanted to make love to his boyfriend and make him forget any of the worries surrounding them. As they kissed, Hank ground against Connor, which was easy to do thanks to those legs around his waist. He still hadn’t taken his own pants off, but he was starting to get hard regardless.

A small noise escaped Connor as Hank moved and his head fell back, breaking the kiss. His hands were pawing at Hank's clothes, keen to get them off. Even if they only got as far as rutting against each other while kissing lazily, it was enough. As long as Connor had Hank and could just enjoy time with him, everything was okay.

Hank lacked the desperate energy of Connor, but he was no less interested in this. The need to let go, to relax, and to just enjoy some time together was strong. With the kiss now broken, Hank day back and began to remove his own clothes, an activity which now held so much less shame than it had so short a time ago. He had Connor to thank for that, he knew.

"You're gorgeous," Connor blurted out as he reached for Hank, keen to hold him close. Tugging at Hank, he pulled him down, arching against him with a whine. "I can't get enough of you."

Hank’s heart fluttered every time he heard those sweet words from Connor, and this time was no different. He smiled and gathered the armful of squirming detective close to him. “Let me give you more then” he rumbled, his hands tracing along Connor’s back and sides.

Adoring the gentle touches, Connor wrapped around Hank the best he could and started peppering his boyfriend's cheek and shoulder with kisses. "I'll take anything you give," he smirked, proud of his pun. Twisting a little, he grabbed the lube from the side where they last left it and dangled it in front of Hank with a raised eyebrow and a sultry "well?"

Hank snorted, but he was smiling as he sat back and took the lube from Connor. “I’ll hold you to that” he teased, one big palm laying across Connor’s chest and pushing him gently back down onto the mattress. Hank wasted little time in slicking up his fingers and sliding the first one in - he would need that time to tease Connor later.

The wonderful thing about Hank was that everything about him was big. Connor squirmed on the single finger, whining a little. They had played around enough before that he should have been used to it but each time his body seemed to just forget. Spreading his legs a little wider, Connor reached to hold Hank's lower arm, wanting more but it was a lot at the same time.

Hank knew they were both impatient, but there was no way he was going to do anything even remotely close to hurting Connor. So as much as Connor squirmed and grabbed at him, Hank maintained his slow and steady pace. His free hand stayed planted on Connor's chest to keep him steady, as Hank slipped a second finger inside and started to scissor them.

The hand on Connor's chest at the same time as the second finger worked him open was bliss. It was enough to draw his focus from all his other worries which took a backseat to the present moment. "Please, yes," he panted, sweat already making his body slick and a little sticky. Hank had always been so good to him and this time was no different.

Hank was very satisfied to see Connor relaxing and getting out of his own head so quickly. It did stroke his ego in a delightful way. "Just a little bit more, you just keep relaxing so you can take me, beautiful" Hank kept up the stream of praise as best he could while also being distracted by how perfect and pliable Connor was under his ministrations.

It was truly special, to be able to let go and trust Hank so much. Connor reached for him blindly, needing him close, a solid weight and presence to hold him down. "I'm ready, I promise," he whispered, feet firmly planted on the bed so he could rock his hips down against Hank's hand.

Hank didn't just blindly take Connor's word for it, taking a few more moments to get him all the way opened up before sitting back to slick up his cock. Sinking slowly into Connor was sinfully good, a low groan rumbling up out of Hank's chest. He kept his eyes open though, wanting to see his boyfriend's reaction.

Mouth falling open, Connor forgot how to breathe for a few precious seconds. Each and every time he fell in bed with Hank was like the first. The initial mindless gasp of being stretched open followed by a string of "ohfuckohgod" as all of Connor's focus was taken up by how amazing it felt. Finally, he managed to muster up enough brain power to whine a desperate "please" as he begged Hank to start moving.

Hank was a careful man when it came to pretty much everything but his health, and especially so in the bedroom. He wasn't one to brag, but he had definitely had problems in the past with hurting lovers by going too fast. So now, no matter how much Connor begged, Hank waited a good few moments before starting up a slow and steady rhythm. Besides, Hank needed time to recover from the incredible heat and pressure around his cock. They fit together perfectly, he and Connor, and he had to concentrate not to let that overwhelm him.

When Hank finally started moving, Connor keened. His legs clamped around Hank's waist while his arms looped around his neck. Half bitten off moans and sighs punctured each thrust and Connor craned his neck to reach for kisses. His cock bobbed between them, rubbing against Hank's stomach, making Connor try to rut up into each thrust, whining when Hank kept a slow, steady pace.

Hank wasn't teasing, but he didn't feel like this was the right night for a desperate sort of fuck. No, this was the time for a more quiet, slow session, making sure that each thrust buried him fully inside of Connor, the slap of skin on skin loud in the otherwise quiet apartment. Hank happily leaned down to kiss Connor, the new angle trapping Connor's cock further between their bodies.

A shiver passed through Connor and he moaned into the kiss, rocking against each slow move. It was everything he needed, Hank filling his whole world with no room left to think about anything outside of them. "Feels good," he managed to huff out, half choking on the words at the change in angle. Everything felt good, almost too good and Connor clung to Hank, needing him more than he could ever hope to express.

“For me too” Hank muttered in response, pulling Connor closer. He wanted to be closer than they already were, he always did. Wanted to be pressed skin to skin so he could feel Connor’s pulse in his own body. It was difficult, but Hank was determined to keep his pace, hips only stuttering with need occasionally. He was sweating already, breath coming in short pants - another downside of being old and out of shape, he thought dimly.

If Connor could find a way to hold Hank closer, he would have. As it was, he simply buried his fingers in Hank's hair and pulled him in for a kiss. "You're amazing." Each word was punched out of him by a thrust and Connor tugged on Hank's hair to pull him back enough to catch his eye. "I love you."

Connor tugging at his hair earned a low groan from Hank - something about that always sent a shot of arousal to his core. "Love you too, darlin" He growled, snapping his hips forward with intent of making Connor cry out. He adored getting his lover to lose control.

Hank got exactly what he wanted with the harder thrust. It made Connor shift up the bed a little and he cried out. "Again," he demanded, angling his hips in preparation. Under Hank's weight and the way his cock was trapped between them, Connor was helpless to do much beyond meet each of Hank's movements in counterpoint. His legs were shaking, hips twitching as little as he tried to get more, help Hank go just that little deeper. "So good Hank, so good," he chanted, eyes closing at the onslaught of pleasure. "So close. Please make me come."

Hank was helpless against that sort of pleading, unable to deny Connor any sort of pleasure. He supposed that held both in and out of the bedroom. He planted his knees more firmly on the mattress and wiggled one hand underneath Connor's lower back to lift him up and get that angle  _ juuuust _ right. "I've got you, gonna make you come so hard" Hank purred, keeping up the smoothest pace he could manage as his own orgasm approached, "You just let go for me, let me see you fall apart beautiful"

Such a display of strength always got to Connor. Even more so when it changed the angle at which Hank's cock filled him up and the clutched desperately at broad shoulders. It wasn't like he could hold back, even if he wanted to. Connor's whole body locked up tight as his orgasm built and he all but screamed as it rushed through him. His hips jerked futilely, muscles pulsing with pleasure as he held onto Hank. Cries turned to soft whimpers of pleasure as he let Hank keep using his body.

Hank was always in awe of Connor, but especially when he was letting go he was beautiful. The way his body locked and then relaxed, all the tension bleeding out of him to be replaced with just bliss...Hank wanted to give that to him all the time. Hank worked Connor through his orgasm, only needing a few more moments before he hit his own peak. He groaned out his boyfriend’s name, pressing close as he stilled.

Panting, Connor clung to Hank, wanting to hold him close for a little while longer. Anything to keep Hank on top of him, ground him and help him forget for a few precious minutes longer. However, biology and physics were against him and he knew that they would need to get up all too soon to clean up. A little more cognisant, he kissed along Hank's cheek, loving the burn of beard against his lips. "I love you."

Hank knew Connor liked the grounding weight, so he didn’t hesitate to flop down on top of him. If he was getting crushed, he’d roll them to the side. He took these few moments of respite as perfect gifts, letting his mind wander and go completely blank. Hank smiled at the kisses, murmuring the same sentiment in reply, but more slurred and lazy still.

The kisses were more than welcome and Connor craned his neck for more. He ran a hand through Hank's hair, pushing sweaty locks behind his ear. It was bliss and he didn't want to move. Alas, they couldn't stay like that forever and all too soon, the sensation of cooling come slicking and sticking the insides of his thighs was making Connor squirm. "We should get cleaned up," he sighed. And maybe, after sleeping, Hank would help organise his first therapy session. Connor was ready to face things head on once again.

Hank could feel his back getting stiff and sore, and he knew he needed to get up. But he truly did not want to, and he said as much. “Why are we always too lazy for a condom?” He grumbled, rolling off of Connor, “it would save us so much cleanup but I never think of it at the beginning.” Maybe he was just getting old, Hank thought grimly, if that was what he considered pillowtalk.

"It's because I enjoy feeling you come in me far too much," Connor quipped. He sighed and rolled onto his stomach before pushing up and off the bed. "I'd be sad if you came in a condom rather than me." He offered Hank a hand to pull him up. A quick wipe down in the bathroom would be more than sensible. Waking up coated in drying come was not an ideal way to start any day.

Hank shivered pleasantly at Connor's matter-of-fact filthy monologue, saying "I swear, if I were younger you'd have me up and fucking all night." They had done that all night thing a few times, but it wasn't easy and it always left him a wreck the next day. Hank gladly took the hand up, groaning softly as several joints popped. "It's hell getting old" He whined, mostly just for the sake of whining.

"But you do it so handsomely. I rather like you just the way you are," Connor bounced back. "Let's clean up and I'll squish your muscles until you fall asleep." The undercurrent of earlier was still there but Connor was pushing it down in favour of this moment of normalcy, of being able to be with Hank without the pressures and worries of everyday life. He clung to it with both hands and relished the ease of their interactions without drama.

“You’re such a charmer, Con.” Hank chuckled, allowing his boyfriend to take the lead on cleanup. He took the opportunity to press a few lazy kisses to Connor’s exposed skin as he was wiped down, just because he could. It was nice, Hank thought, to have time together like this again. It seemed like forever since they had really just enjoyed each other’s company. Which made the feeling of calm and happiness all the sweeter, in his opinion.

Even as they cleaned up, Connor was already rubbing over tired muscles, fingers digging into sore places. "I do try to make sure you know I love you for who you are, as you are." He huffed a little, wondering why Hank seemed to have such a hard time accepting his unconditional love from time to time. Once clean and dry, Connor led them back to bed and urged Hank to find a comfortable position. A dry massage wouldn't be as comfortable as one with oils but Connor wanted to sleep rather than wash up again. An afternoon nap sounded really quite good.

Connors fingers were magical, and Hank made no effort to hold back the grunts and groans they elicited every time they hit a particularly sore knot. “I know, I know.” Hank replied, smiling wryly as he allowed Connor to guide him onto the bed and start massaging. For as much as Connor had to struggle with, he’d never have to deal with the mental difficulty of wondering why your attractive younger boyfriend bothered staying with you when you were old and had let yourself go. He trusted Connor, of course, he trusted him when he said ‘I love you’. But it was hard sometimes. Hank didn’t try to explain though, instead simply enjoying the massage and mumbling his thanks from the pillow.

The ability to do something nice for Hank filled Connor with warm pride. He watched him slowly sink into the bed and relax. Perhaps it was safe to ask while he was so happy. "I know you said you would help with arranging a therapy appointment for me. When could we do that?" The question was out now, there was no going back. And even if Connor wanted to, he knew that he shouldn't. This was something that needed to be dealt with at long last. He had quiet hopes that helped quell the worst of his fears.

Hank couldn't tell if Connor was trying to butter him up with this massage, but he couldn't bring himself to care either way. His answer was the same anyways. "As soon as I'm not a pile of mush thanks to your clever fingers I will gladly help you make that appointment." Hank mumbled, turning his head to shoot Connor a sleepy and relaxed smile over his shoulder. He would have done it now, had his brain not been totally blanked out from feeling so good.

Priorities were somewhat Connor's speciality. And in that moment he knew for absolutely certain that Hank, boneless and blissed was the most important thing. "We have all the time," he reassured. "Cuddle and nap first?"

“Cuddle and nap sounds amazing,” Hank said, reaching back for Connor lazily. Maybe it wasn’t the most efficient use of a day off, but it sounded heavenly anyways.

Once they were settled down, Connor stayed still until Hank started snoring. As soon as he was certain Hank was asleep, Connor grabbed his phone and started researching everything he could about therapy. The types, the duration, things to look out for. He wanted to be armed with information about it before committing to something. Even if Hank and Nines seemed so blindly trusting that therapy helped, Connor wanted to do things on his own terms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Therapy: We Do It

Hank drifted into a restful and dreamless sleep. He really seemed to have needed this kind of rest, because his body dove into it with gusto. When he woke up it was slowly and with a lot of soft groaning and stretching.

"Morning handsome," Connor rubbed over Hank's chest and stomach. "Feeling well rested?"

“Hell yeah” Hank murmured, grinning up at Connor with half lidded eyes. He wasn’t quite awake yet, but he was getting there.

Patting Hank's shoulder, Connor got up. Sumo would need sorting out soon anyway. He was probably busting to go in the garden already. While he let Sumo out, Connor set about making a drink for Hank along with a bit of food too. They would make dinner later no doubt but a little something to tide him over until then was a wise choice.

Hank could hear the sounds of Connor letting out Sumo, and he thought to himself how lucky he was to have such an attentive boyfriend. Someone who loved his dog as much as he did was a rare find. Eventually, Hank managed to get up, stretch, and wander out of the bedroom. “Con?” He called, not feeling like searching the house right now.

"Coming!" Connor called back, plates of toast in hand. He almost bumped into Hank as he came out of the bedroom. "I was just bringing you a snack and a drink." He waved said items in front of Hank and ushered him back towards the bedroom to settle him down again.

Hank let out a grunt of surprise, but he was smiling as Connor herded him back onto the bed. He sat down and patted a spot next to him, saying “You’re spoiling the hell out of me.” He chuckled and reached for a piece of toast nonetheless, clearly not that bothered.

The bed dipped a little under Connor as he settled next to Hank. "You deserve to be looked after and adored." He said it matter of factly, in his eyes Hank wasn't always given the right amount of positive feedback and it had had consequences. Now, Connor was trying to make up for it and also say thank you to him for everything he had done.

Hank didn’t have anything to say to that, because anything he did say would probably be a downer. Instead he just smiled and let himself accept the compliment. It was difficult, but he was trying. Instead of speaking, Hank just took a bite of his toast and held out Connor’s piece towards him.

Rather than take the piece immediately, Connor wrapped a hand gently around Hank's wrist and leaned forward to take a bite before grabbing the toast for himself. "Thank you, handsome," he purred with a smile. "You take such good care of me." Nerves were starting to creep in again about the potential of therapy but Connor quashed them down. Now was not the time to have an internal panic.

Hank chuckled and smiled, enjoying how sweet Connor could be when he was laying it on thick like that. There was a certain charm to it that he was really loving right now. It was reassuring, in a way. But it was also a mask for Connor sometimes, Hank knew. "Want me to feed you the rest of your breakfast then?" He offered, giving Connor the chance to keep the game going and think about something else for a while.

A firm shake of his head was all Connor could reply with as his mouth was full. Swallowing, he fixed Hank with a look. "I need to be able to fend for myself too." He didn't want to say he couldn't get totally used to Hank helping him, part of him still worried it might be ripped away at any moment. Especially if certain truths came out. But, hopefully, Hank would never find it out. Much more softly, he added, "You already do so much for me."

Hm. Well that hadn't quite gone to plan. Seemed like Connor was insistent on getting into his own head regardless. "I do it because I want to. Because I enjoy taking care of you." Hank insisted, firm yet gentle in his tone. Much like Connor earlier, he needed to remind his partner just how much he loved him and his company.

A soft "oh" and Connor was looking at Hank with wide eyes. He offered the toast in his hand back to his boyfriend with a hopeful look. "Maybe I can allow it just this once." He ducked his head a little, shy in the face of such open and honest love.

A slow smile spread across Hank's face at that, and he gladly took the piece of toast. "Good. Because I love spoiling you." He said, holding it up to Connor's mouth for him to take a bite.

Nibbling at the corner of the toast, Connor offered a small smile. "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you when you pamper me like this. Maybe it's something I'll be able to learn to be better about over time and with help." He bit at his tongue, wanting to seek reassurance that therapy was going to be okay but at the same time, he didn't want to be needy. In the end, he decided that changing topic was going to be the best thing. "So, up to anything fun today?"

The honesty was surprising, but it made something deep in Hank's chest clench. They were both trying, both slowly stepping forward even if those steps were slow and faltering. "I think we can learn together." Hank said softly, watching Connor carefully. There were many things he needed to keep learning to accept, and he hoped Connor understood that. Deciding to answer his question instead of drawing things out, Hank replied thoughtfully "Well, I'm going to help you with your appointment. Then a late shift at work, sadly."

Logically, Connor knew it was going to happen, he had even pushed Hank to help him with the therapy but somehow it still shocked him. "That's an awfully quick turnaround on the therapy. Or is this just an initial assessment to see if I can work with someone?" Maybe he was a lost cause. Maybe nobody could or simply wouldn't want to work with him. Connor didn't know which was worse, therapy or making an effort to do it but nobody would take him on.

“Best to strike while the iron is hot.” Hank said practically, knowing from personal experience that it was best to do things before the doubt and second guessing could set in too hard. “The first appointment will mostly be for you to see if you like this therapist.” Hank reassured Connor, “No therapist is going to turn you down. That’s not how it works. But if they make you too uncomfortable you can always find a new one.”

As if Connor wasn't going to be on his best behaviour already to make sure the therapist would want to work with him. However, something niggled at his mind. "You said Fowler was practically begging you to get therapy at your worst. I struggle to imagine that somehow." He wondered whether Hank had therapy before and what that was really like.

Hank paused, realizing only now that being honest with Connor meant, you know, being honest with Connor. Damn. Carefully, he schooled his face into what he hoped wasn’t too odd of an expression as he replied “I’m glad. That means my hard work has paid off. And that you’ve helped me as well.” Hank had always known he’d have to tell Connor about his past sometime. Just maybe not now.

Despite his apparent aggressively stubborn streak, Connor did know when to back down and when to press. It was kind of a key component of a successful interrogation. Which was why he nodded and left to topic well enough alone. "You're a wonderful man, no matter your past. We all have our own burdens and baggage." He scratched lightly through Hank's beard before kissing him softly.

Hank leaned into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of Connor’s fingers through his beard. He always loved when Connor did that. A soft chuckle escaped as they parted, and he realized just how hypocritical they both were. Assuring each other they were worthy despite their trauma yet refusing to believe it about themselves. “When you want to know, I’ll tell you.” He murmured, voice soft against Connor’s lips.

"You didn't pry into my past and I won't dig through yours. When you want to share, I will listen but I'm content to love you even if you never tell me," Connor replied. He stole another kiss before reaching for the toast by himself. Knowing himself, he would blurt out something foolish if he didn't cram food in his mouth.

Hank’s smile was dangerously fond as he pulled away from Connor and watched him start to eat. He felt almost as if he would be comfortable sharing now, but also knew that it wasn’t the right time. Not when Connor was so delicate already, not when he needed Hank’s support. So instead, Hank simply picked up his own toast and took a bite, adding “I love you too, the same way. You know that, right Con?”

Shy and a little overwhelmed, Connor nodded with a small smile. "I know. Just a little hard to believe someone like me could be loved. Especially by someone as amazing as you." Well, there went his grand plan of cramming his mouth full so he couldn't speak. Turned out he could talk with a mouthful of toast just as well.

Hank reached out and set a hand on Connor’s knee, watching him like he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “We’re quite the pair then, going about thinking the same things like this.” He murmured, clearly totally in earnest.

Despite his best efforts, Connor was getting restless, the idea of making a therapy appointment getting to him. "How long do you think the waiting list for therapy is?" he asked, finally going back to the topic that had been plaguing him all along.

Hank shrugged, settling back slightly as he ate his toast. “It depends. Hopefully you’ll be able to make an appointment right away.” He said, although he couldn’t say he was an expert on therapy himself. He had mostly just gone to AA and called it a day.

Despite his best attempts, Connor still gulped in mild panic. He had thought he had at least a day before an assessment and then two weeks at least for an actual appointment. Instead, it seemed he might actually have to plunge in sooner than anticipated. Hesitantly, he nodded, battling a fresh wave of fear. Oddly, he was so glad Hank was not only being supportive but also helping him make that initial call to set something up. Because if Connor was left to his own devices, he might not have done it.

The hand still on Connor's knee squeezed supportively as Hank watched him panic. "Breathe, Con." Hank reminded him gently, "It's going to be fine. I'll be here the whole time." Well, it wasn't like he could go to the appointment with his boyfriend, but for everything else he'd be there. Give Connor the support he deserved and so clearly needed.

Connor wondered how Nines and Sixty seemed to cope so easily with emotion and had to battle the sudden flare of jealousy on top of everything else. Trying to let go of it, he focused on Hank, doing his best to breathe. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Can we get it over with? The anticipation is almost worse that the actual thing will be. At least u suspect and hope." He put his hand on top of Hank's on his knee. The support and love was so very much appreciated even if it wasn't really deserved.

Hank nodded, replying “Of course. Want to use your phone? Or mine?” He didn’t mind either way, and he certainly wasn’t going anywhere. The number Nines had sent for the office he recommended was on Connor’s phone, so they wouldn’t even have to look anything up.

Wordlessly, Connor shoved his phone at Hank. He couldn't quite put into words everything he felt so he didn't even bother trying. Instead, he stared at his hands, cheeks pink. "You know my passcode and my work schedule. Anything around that works except tomorrow morning when I'm meeting an old friend." He mumbled a soft and embarrassed 'thank you' at the end but Hank probably missed that.

Well, Hank hadn’t really expected to make the appointment  _ for _ Connor, but he didn’t really mind. If it was this or watch someone he loved continue to suffer, Hank would gladly make a hundred phone calls. “You’ve got it.” Hank said, nodding as he took the phone and pressed the call button. He definitely missed the ‘thank you’ but he didn’t need to hear it. There was no debt to be paid.

Listening to the call, Connor's chest started to squeeze. There was a cancellation for that morning. He thought he had a few more days at least to prepare if not a week. If he had been on the phone, he would have lied shamelessly and said it was no good. And probably made up an excuse to cancel the one they had given him for a later date too - with every intention and promise to reschedule but never quite getting round to it. Now though, there was no escaping, Hank agreed for him to appointment that morning and would probably take him there too. Connor's chest constricted in fear based on nothing but his own assumptions and world views. Therapy wasn't there to help, it was there to trap him, to expose him for who he truly was and give the world ammunition to exile him.

Hank was pleasantly surprised by the call, as the woman on the other end of the line explained that there was a cancellation so Connor would be able to come in right away. He agreed to the appointment and set up an email and a text confirmation so that Connor wouldn't have any excuse not to remember to go. Hanging up the phone, Hank shot his boyfriend a reassuring smile, saying "There. All set up."

A little breathy with panic, Connor managed to thank Hank and offered a tiny, timid smile. He let out a huff. "Am I really doing the right thing? What if I get fired over this? Or it somehow reflects badly on Nines and Sixty? If they lose their jobs or their friends over this?" He twisted his fingers in the bedding, agitation radiating from his whole body.

Hank scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Connor, pulling him into a comforting hug. He let them sit there in silence for a few moments before he spoke, wanting to give Connor the physical reassurance first. "You're absolutely doing the right thing. You deserve to get better, Con. I know it's corny but god if enough people didn't have to say it to me for it to get through my sick skull." Hank said gently, "And besides, Nines already goes to therapy, and nothing bad has happened to him."

That was true, Nines had been going to therapy for who knew how long and had seemed to be doing fine. Better than fine actually. A small spark of jealousy shot through Connor before he could viciously stamp it out. "I need to get ready," he mumbled into Hank's chest, not making any effort to move from the safety of his arms. "Can't go in there looking like the wreck I feel." He dreaded the judgement that would come. Of being found to be lacking, maybe even beyond help. Connor didn't think he could cope with being told in a professional capacity that he was broken and without hope.

Hank just gently stroked his hands up and down Connor's back, doing his best to reassure him even though he knew this panic probably wouldn't subside until the first session was over. Well, maybe even not then. "Want me to help you pick something out?" He asked after a few moments, "You don't have to get too dressed up I don't think. Just wear whatever you're comfortable in."

"Please," Connor nodded. "Otherwise I'll end up in a tux or my dress uniform." He trusted Hank to pick out something sensible. Because in Connor's world comfortable meant sweatpants and Hank's t-shirts or hoodies. Which again gave absolutely the wrong impression. He had an hour to get ready before needing to leave. He could do this.

Hank chuckled, finally putting some distance between them. "Hm, I mean I do love seeing you in your tux." He teased. In all seriousness, he'd probably set him up in some comfortable jeans and maybe a hoodie. Nothing too serious but nothing too overly relaxed.

A shower and shave was probably the best thing Connor could do so, out of the safety of Hank's arms, he got up. "Could you-” he broke off and tried again. "Would you come with me to the appointment and wait for me there please?" It was a big ask, he didn't really want to be making such demands on his boyfriend but Connor didn't trust himself not to do something stupid, especially not if the first session was as emotionally taxing as he expected it to be.

Hank also stood up, stretching with a soft groan as he did so. Connor's question surprised him, but only because he hadn't expected it to be asked. "I had planned on driving you there. I'll gladly wait as well." Hank said, shooting Connor an easy smile. With something this emotionally taxing, he didn't want to leave his boyfriend alone.

"Thank you." Connor pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of Hank's lips before darting off to get ready. He tried to draw it out for as long as possible but even he couldn't fill a whole hour or more with getting ready. No matter what he did, he wasn't going to be late and turned away it seemed. What a pity.

Hank was no paragon of fashion, he knew this. But he could pick out something casual and comfortable for his boyfriend, which he laid out on the bed. Gathering up the dishes, he headed into the kitchen to clean up while Connor finished getting ready. Once he was done, Hank would drive them to the therapist’s office on his bike.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but one that's sweet in more ways than one <3
> 
> (IYNM will now pause in updates until a later date in the Rev My Engines timeline)

The ride to the therapist felt like a trip to the slaughterhouse. Connor was tense, petrified and trying to rehearse things to say. He left Hank in the waiting room while he was shown into an office. It wasn't stark white and clinical like he'd expected. In fact, it was more homely than his own living room. By the time his hour was up, Connor felt a little less frazzled. Maybe therapy wasn't as terrifying and overbearing as he had made it to be in his head. He had a lot to think about and a potential start date with one of the therapists at the centre who, he was reassured, was patient and kind. But not the one that Nines was seeing - something about objectivity and impartiality which Connor could understand. Finally stepping back into the waiting room, Connor offered Hank a small smile. "Looks like I survived."

Hank waited as patiently as he could while Connor was in his session. He wasn’t worried about how it would go, per se. But he was worried about how his boyfriend would take it, if he would be a wreck when he came out or not. Not to mention places like this...brought up some memories. A little uncomfortable, but nothing Hank couldn’t handle. Seeing Connor had him on his feet with a smile, holding a hand out for him to take. “Happy to see it.” Hank said with a little chuckle.

Such a reaction from Hank was so reassuring. The outstretched hand was gratefully clasped by both of Connor's. Hank was still there, waiting for him, reaching for him. Looking into the prospect of therapy didn't make Connor any less in his eyes, didn't seem to diminish the love between them. Maybe the assessment did take more out of Connor than expected because he found his eyes welling up a little. Whether in relief or what, he didn't know but he tugged at Hank's hand and buried his face against the broad chest he found.

Hank couldn't tell what was going on in Connor's head, but he could tell he needed a hug. So a hug was what he got, Hank's free hand coming to wrap around him and pull him in close. They stood there for as long as was socially appropriate in a therapist's waiting room, before Hank chuckled and said "Let's go for a ride together."

That sounded amazing and Connor nodded, sniffling a little. Riding was one of the few times he had a hope of relaxing. "Lead the way." He gestured for Hank to leave and followed after him.

Hank knew that riding was something he always enjoyed, even on his lowest days. So hopefully that held true for Connor as well. Getting on the bike, he made sure Connor was wrapped tightly around him before starting the engine and slowly weaving through town. No destination in mind, just driving.

The purr of the bike under him was soothing. But even better was Hank's warm bulk to plaster up against and just be. Connor let his eyes slip shut and he drifted, everything calming around him, even his inner turmoil quieting down. All things considered, the appointment had gone well, he was making efforts to be better. If not for himself then at least his brothers and Hank. It was a step in the right direction. Lifting his head, he pressed a kiss to Hank's back, grateful for his love and support.

Hank loved feeling the way Connor snuggled up behind him. That was reassuring to him, showed him that his boyfriend was still the same old cuddlebug when he could be. A part of Hank had to admit that he was still really worried about Connor. He was going through some tough shit, and starting a new treatment was never the easiest time. But riding together, just the two of them, it helped ease his worries. This was familiar. It was something they could do together without worrying about fucking it up. Hank drove them through town a few times before turning to head for one of their favorite parks, figuring a little more time out together couldn't be a bad thing.

Only when they slowed down did Connor open his eyes. To his surprise, they hadn't headed back home or to work, but rather to one of their parks. It brought a smile to his lips and he climbed off, taking a deep and appreciative breath. "This is a nice surprise," he chimed. "May I treat you to an ice cream?"

Getting off the bike and popping his helmet into place, Hank smiles at Connor in return. “I think that sounds like a fantastic idea” he replied, genuine happiness painting a smile across his face.

While Connor didn't have a lot of spare cash to throw around, he could afford to treat them both to an ice cream in the park. At least, this month he could. Therapy was going to be expensive and when he started up properly, he was going to be counting his pennies. But it wasn't something he really wanted to think about right now, so he nodded at Hank and led him to the ice cream truck parked up on the corner.

Hank made sure to take Connor’s hand and squeeze it as they walked, wanting the casual intimacy now more than ever. They’d talk about how therapy had gone later, and he’d want to know how Connor felt and how he planned to schedule it and how Hank could support him. But for now all he wanted was a vanilla cone to eat and share with his boyfriend.

The silent and pallid presence of Hank next to him as they licked their ice creams was something that Connor took great solace in. It was reassuring that despite the changes already and the changes to come, Hank was beside him and promised to be there throughout. While Connor didn't trust easily, he had no doubts Hank would hold true to his word. Squeezing his hand back, Connor leaned their shoulders together and stared out into the park. They would need to head to work soon but for now, Connor could just be and bask in the oasis of calm Hank gave them.

Hank enjoyed the comfortable silence as well, letting the sweet treat and the way Connor leaned against him bolster his spirits. He didn't say anything until he absolutely had to, admitting softly "We have to get back to work now. Are you okay to do that?" If Connor was still feeling a little shaky, he wouldn't take them back just yet, work be damned.

Work had always been a priority. It came second after family and Connor nodded. "We should go back." He let out a sigh, closing his eyes against the warm sun for one last moment. "Thank you. I know I’ve said it before but I want to say it again. I really appreciate how much you're here for me despite everything."

Hank wrapped an arm around Connor’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re welcome. I wouldn’t miss being here for anything.” He said gently.

His waterworks were threatening to start up again so Connor forcibly cleared his throat and wiped at his face. "Work beckons, think I can rock up in such an outfit? It's no worse than what Gavin usually wears." But it was a far cry from his usual suit and tie. No doubt it would get people's tongues wagging.

Hank chuckled, more than happy to turn the conversation to lighter places. “I think you’ll be fine. You don’t have any interrogations set for today, so I don’t think anyone will care.” He replied. Seeing Connor a little more relaxed night even be good for his image at the precinct.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All it takes to upend an evening is a single phone call.
> 
> We recommend that you first read [chapter 8 of Stabilizers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25315246/chapters/65264665), before this chapter and the parallel [chapter 52 of Rev My Engines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/65264911/).

It was an everyday evening, Hank was busy with Sumo while Connor picked a film to watch that evening when his phone rang. Frowning when it was Nines' number showing up, Connor picked up. He almost wished he hadn't. Once the call ended, the phone dropped from his hands and a numbness washed over Connor for a moment before it all exploded in a tsunami of emotions. "Hank!!" he cried, pushing off the sofa and rushing towards where he heard noises from the kitchen.

Hank was just hanging up with Gavin when he heard Connor’s cry from the living room. Mentally, the only word in his head right now was  _ fuck _ . Because that’s what they were. Fucked. He had heard panic in Gavin’s voice and he heard it now in his boyfriend’s. “I’m here Con” Hank reassured, holding out his arms for his boyfriend, “I just heard.”

Barrelling into Hank's open arms, Connor curled into his chest, shaking. The very thing he and his brothers had feared was actually happening. He had no idea what to do, how to cope. "We're all meeting at my place. Could you get us there?" he ended up asking, eyes wet.

Hank held Connor close, hating the way he was shaking. And more than that, he hated that he didn’t know what to do to help. “Of course, darling. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Hank insisted, voice low and soft.

The temptation to lash out was strong but Connor tried to keep it in, he didn't want to hurt Hank. Just because he was scared didn't mean everyone else around him had to be miserable too. "Could we go to mine? The others will be there soon." Despite his words, Connor made no attempt to move from Hank's arms and the safety they offered. It was selfish and greedy but he needed Hank, needed him to hold the frayed pieces of his soul together for a little while longer.

Hank squeezes Connor just a little closer before relaxing his grip and nodding. “Of course. I’ll drive us.” He said. Of the three in Allen’s little gang, Hank was the only one who had a car as well as a motorcycle. An old beater, but a serviceable car nonetheless. He pulled away from Connor just enough to be able to walk, but kept one arm firmly around his waist. He didn’t want to lose that comforting contact, for his boyfriend’s sake.

It was all too easy to let Hank take the lead, follow wherever he guided. Connor trusted Hank and allowed himself to blindly do as told. The ride to his apartment was quiet and the only thing Connor insisted on was taking Sumo with them, not trusting Kamski to not try something with their beloved dog. "Home, sweet home," he said as he opened the door and let them in.

Hank doubted that they needed to take sumo with them, but this wasn’t a moment when he wanted to argue with Connor. If taking sumo with them would make him feel better, then along he came. Besides, he liked getting out and about. “Now we just wait for the others.” Hank agreed. As they stepped inside and closed the door he asked “Before that though, what can I do to help you? Is there anything you need from me?”

There was already so much Connor had asked of Hank. He really shouldn't ask for more. But the words were slipping out already. "Don't leave me until this is all over? For your protection more than anything else." He could have easily dropped to his knees and begged Hank to never leave him, apologised for all the shit he had been out through already and what more was to come. Instead, he tried to be a little more adult about it, put Hank first. Thankfully he was saved from any more embarrassment by the buzzer going off, making him jump.

Hank wanted to protest, wanted to insist that he wasn’t going to leave Connor at all. But he was afraid his words would come out angry and bitter, colored by his disappointment that Connor still believed so little in how much Hank loved him. So instead, Hank simply nodded and murmured “Whatever you want.”, and let himself be saved by the doorbell. Seeing Allen was a relief, and Hank gratefully accepted the brief embrace. It felt good to know that he had the support of his two closest (and only) friends in this mess. They were in this together, after all. Tied together by the men they were in love with.

Once released from the hug, Connor settled on the sofa and patted it for Hank to sit too. It was nowhere near as comfortable as Hank's sofas and there was definitely no room for Sumo but it would have to do for now. "Typical that the troublemakers are the ones to take their time getting here," he joked. Not like they also had the furthest to travel. Nines had been the first to settle, then Sixty before they pulled Connor to Detroit too, getting him back into shape before letting him loose on the city and helping him find an affordable apartment.

Hank sat down and immediately wrapped an arm around Connor, keeping him close. The sofa was familiar to him, even though they didn’t spend as much time together here as at Hank’s place. There was enough familiarity still to be comforting. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.” Hank reassured, worrying privately about the state of Gavin when he arrived. Crises weren’t exactly his forte.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A plan is made, but can the brothers keep up a united front for long enough to make it through the night?
> 
> This chapter runs parallel to two others, and it is recommended you read them in this order: This chapter, [Chapter 53 of Rev My Engines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/65500330), and then [Chapter 9 of Stabilizers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25315246/chapters/65500462).

Sure enough, as Sixty brought the drinks in, the downstairs door's buzzer sounded. He untangled himself from Hank's hold and waited for Nines to announce their arrival before letting him and Gavin in. When his brother let himself in, Connor's heart broke at the sight of his red rimmed eyes. Reaching up, he pulled Nines in for a hug and peered over his shoulder at Gavin. It took zero brain cells to reach for him.and pull him in too, trying to offer a little relief from the misery.

Hank was left on the sofa, a little awkward, sitting and waiting for Connor to come back. Allen seemed quieter than usual, and he could hear the shuffle of bodies in the front hall. It was an unnerving silence that stretched out around them, and Hank had no intention of breaking it. Instead he leaned back on the sofa and did his best to relax and release some of the tension in his shoulders.

Finally pulling away from the hug, Connor led everyone back to his modest living room. He pulled a few stools from the kitchen where he had a small dining table in the corner. "I'm glad we all got here safely."

Hank offered the two newcomers as good a smile as he could muster in this trying time. Gavin looked...bad. So did Nines. Damn. Hank shared a knowing look with Allen and welcomed Connor back into his place at his side. “Me too.” He agreed, “That’s what’s important.”

Settling against Hank, Connor buried his face against his neck and listened. He couldn't cope with seeing his brother and Gavin so visibly upset. As much as he wanted to stick his head in the sand, he knew he needed to pay attention. It wouldn't have been an exaggeration that this could well be a matter of life and death for them.

Hank gently ran his hand up and down Connor’s side as he pressed close. He wished there was more he could do, but he knew that removing Connor from the situation wasn’t a possibility. Instead, Hank listened carefully as Gavin spoke, trying to commit to memory as much as possible. He was the most impartial here, so he had to try and bear some of the weight.

Struggling to sit up a little, Connor finally looked at Gavin while staying plastered against Hank. "Did he show any extra interest in Nines? Ask questions that seemed a little strange or too knowing?" Finally, his detective training was kicking in and Connor felt able to join the conversation. His hand squeezed Hank's thigh, keeping their touch as close as possible.

Hank was glad to see Connor perking up a little, but he did feel pretty bad for Gavin - what a hot seat to be in. Not wanting to interrupt and make things worse, Hank continued to sit in silence, but kept Connor pressed close to his side.

The waiting was perhaps the worst part of this whole thing. If they knew what they were dealing with, plans could be made. Not that Connor had much faith in the idea of options. Kamski had found them, it was time to start over. The question was, how many of them would need to be moving, finding new jobs, new identities, new everything. He just hoped they wouldn't need to find new partners - if they could find more people who would love and accept them as they are.

Hank felt a similar swell of anger to Allen, but didn't say anything right away. Anything he said now would come out wrong, as Allen had just realized. Instead, Hank waited a moment before saying "I feel the same way. I'll do whatever you need, Con. I'm sure between the three of us we can help out in some way." Because it was obvious Gavin would feel the same.

There was something so comforting in knowing that their cobble together family would stick together. Connor wanted to believe they would stay by their sides even if they had to start afresh. "Thank you," he whispered while Sixty turned the conversation from Gavin to Allen.

Hank was thinking about the prospect of having to start his life over, because that seemed to be where this conversation was going. And it wasn't like he had much to lose. Which was equal parts freeing and depressing. But he felt for the young people in the room, the ones with promising careers....they shouldn't have to give up their lives for this. Hank pressed a gentle kiss to Connor's temple as he continued to ponder that conundrum.

Listening to Sixty outline the way Kamski worked was making Connor nervous. He shivered at the idea of Hank being dragged through the mud because of him but he was too selfish to be able to let go. "I'm sorry," he murmured softly, apologising for...well, everything.

Hank's own reassurance was cut off by Allen's tirade, which he felt incredibly grateful for. His friend had managed to articulate what he wanted to say without letting too much anger and hurt sneak in, and that was really the wonderful thing about Fletcher. He held it together better than any of them. "Allen's right. None of us are going to end this on Kamski's side. So you don't have to apologize, darling." Hank said, turning his head to look at Connor for the last part of the sentence.

It was reassuring to have so much love and support around them. And totally alien too. Connor wasn't sure how to cope with it. But thankfully Sixty's lewdness gave him an out and he threw the cushion at his head before turning back to Hank, a little more balanced. "Thank you. I can't put into words how much this means to me." He leaned in to kiss Hank softly, uncaring about the audience.

Hank was chuckling as he watched the brothers together. That was sweet and refreshing, a needed break from the terrible tone of the rest of the conversation. "It's okay, you don't need to." Hank replied with a soft smile, leaning into the kiss happily. Not like Allen and Sixty could complain.

Grateful that his kiss wasn't being rejected, Connor melted against Hank. He only pulled away when he heard his name from Nines. "I got spare toothbrushes and enough throws to make a decent slumber party," he replied. "But just remember that there are others around so no quickies in the bathroom because there's six of us and only one toilet." The cushion went sailing back towards them.

"I suppose this is the night where we all unfortunately find out each other's weird sex habits, huh?" Hank joked at Allen, chuckling at the absurdity of it all. It was strange that in this room there were two groups of people - three friends and three brothers, who were then paired off into couples. At least they were all close in some way. Getting hit with the cushion, Hank laughed, adding "As the eldest, I will be claiming the bed so that Connor and I can fool around without throwing out my back." It felt nice to joke a bit and lighten the mood. God knew they needed all the lightness they could get.

"Actually," Connor snickered, "my house, my rules. So, I'm letting Nines and Gavin have first dibs. Want to sleep in the bedroom or want a slumber party with us crude plebs?" Judging by the way the two were pulling back from the attempts at lightening up the mood, they were probably in need of a bit of privacy. And Nines' acceptance of the offer proved his theory.

Hank sighed and pretended to be put upon when it was decided they would take the sofa, but he didn’t actually care. As long as he had Connor, he would be happy anywhere. And it seemed like, curiously, Nines and Gavin were the most emotionally hit by this situation. So they probably needed the privacy. “If you all keep me awake with making out, I’ll sic sumo on you” he warned with a chuckle.

The squeal of "puppy!" from Sixty made Connor jump and he plastered himself against Hank. "Sumo will stare and drool you into abysmal floppiness. Trust me, I speak from experience."

Hank laughed at the face Allen pulled at that, teasing “Having a dog in the house can put a real damper on the sex, it’s true. I’d bet even you two horny bastards couldn’t get it on.” Sumo, hearing his name spoken so many times, had ambled back over for pets, nosing at Sixty.

Silently, Connor prayed that Sixty didn't see that as a challenge. Because he didn't want to think about his brother getting off. Especially not somewhere Sumo could be watching with sad eyes. And Hank was right, nothing made the mood wilt quicker than a dog - be that watching or thinking there was some great game being had without him and so trying to join in. The time Sumo thought he'd learned and brought a toy over to join in had been an exceptionally awkward moment. Thankfully, the question about food was a great distraction. "There's a pizza place we can order from, or an okay-ish Chinese. It's not great but does deliver and often throws in extras."

Hank was no stranger to getting interrupted mid fuck, with Connor or...before. It wasn’t fun, but it was good for a laugh later. And he had too much faith in Allen for him to really seriously think he was going to fuck in the same room as his friend and his boyfriend’s brother. “Give me your orders and I’ll call it in.” Hank offered, pulling out his phone. Calling for takeout was one of his few talents.

As thanks, Connor kissed Hank's cheek and snuggled back in against him. He was done jesting around with Sixty and wanted a bit of peace and quiet for a little while. There was a lot of thinking to be done. "Thank you. I'll drop you what Sixty, Nines and I usually have. And use my card to pay please." He waved off Sixty's squawking about paying for some of it. Just because Connor was a dick at times didn't mean it was true all the time. Sixty had told him he was hard up for cash that month, he didn't want his twin dipping into savings when Connor could stretch to it for a change.

Hank nodded, pulling up his phone to get started. Allen volunteered his order, along with a grateful nod at the both of them, before he went back to whispering with his boyfriend. Hank called in the order, his arm gentle but firm around Connor to keep him in place against him. They both just needed the reassurance now, he could tell.

The benefits of curling up against Hank included the blissful sound of his voice rumbling through his chest as he spoke. Connor kept his eyes shut, trying to block out the world except for Hank. It even worked to an extent and he was no longer subjected to the ordeal that was his twin with his boyfriend, and being lewd together.

Once he hung up the phone, Hank turned his head to look at where Connor was curled up against him, eyes screwed shut. “You okay, darling?” Hank murmured, knowing that Connor always liked the sound of his voice, “You can stay here with me as long as you like, I’m not going anywhere.”

"I'm surviving. " It was the most honest answer Connor could give. He focused on breathing evenly, trying to get on an even keel so he could take charge. As the oldest, it was his responsibility to sort everything out, no matter what the other two said. "We just dumped a lot of shit on you though. Are you okay?"

Hank nodded at that. Sometimes surviving was the best you could do. He took a few moments to assess his own state and answered honestly "The only thing worrying me is you and your brothers' safety and mental health. Mostly yours." His voice was low and soft, still trying to remain in that comforting register. "I'm going to be fine if you are, that's all that matters." He added. And it was true, wasn't it? Hank didn't have much of a reputation or a career to protect, he didn't have any family, not any more, and he didn't have much credit to ruin. He had already weathered the storm of ruining his own life, so Kamski held very little fear for him personally.

Peering up at Hank, Connor offered a small smile of his own. "It's what I'm in therapy for, right? To sort my head out." He said it quietly, not sure whether Allen actually knew. And even if he did, Connor still felt a stab of shame at the fact that he couldn't do it by himself. That he needed a stranger to teach him how to sort through his emotions in a way that was healthy.

“To help you feel better.” Hank corrected gently, leaning down to press another kiss to Connor’s forehead. He didn’t like this narrative that Connor needed to be fixed, because it wasn’t his fault how he had gotten messed up. “We’ll figure this out. Promise.” He added softly, the reassurance surprising even him.

Any further conversation was cut off by the doorbell. Connor jumped at the sound, heart pounding in his chest. "Will you come with me? Please?" He looked to Hank, hoping he wouldn't be laughed at for fearing going alone.

“Of course” Hank said, standing up with a soft groan. He would offer to get the door by himself, but he could tell that Connor wanted to prove he could do it, so he didn’t bring up the idea. Instead, Hank kept an arm around Connor’s waist as they went to the door, even when it turned out to be just the delivery guy with their food.

A quick rummage through the bags ensured there were no hidden messages or anything untoward dropped into them. Once satisfied, Connor started up the stairs. "Should I knock for Nines and Gavin? They seemed pretty torn up, I don't know if I should interrupt." He very much doubted they were doing anything sexual but he still didn't know if his knocking would bother them if they were in the middle of some heartfelt conversation.

Hank considered that, weighing their options. He didn’t know Nines, but he knew Gavin, and when he got emotional like this it got bad. Either he had closed himself off completely or he had had a complete meltdown - both bad. “I don’t think they’ll want food, but you can knock and let them know.” Hank decided, thinking also that it would be a chance for them to call for help if they needed it.

A soft knock later, Connor opened the bedroom door a crack and peered in. His heart broke a little at seeing Nines' face, blotchy from crying. As quietly as he entered, he left and shook his head at Hank. "They're asleep, we'll put their portions in the fridge." He glanced at Sixty who seemed stiff yet visibly vibrating with unspent energy and rolled his eyes.

“Alright. We’ll make sure they eat something later.” Hank agreed softly. He carried the takeout back into the living room and started doling out the portions, handing Nines and Gavin’s to Connor so he could put them away. Hank didn’t mess with other people’s fridges - it was always a bad idea.

The food was a little too warm to be able to leave it in the fridge so, for now, Connor put it in the microwave. It was as Sumo-proof as he could manage it. "Does anyone want their water topped up?" he called through to the living room. To him, it made sense to grab a jug of water, and, considering he was in the kitchen, he could easily do that if people wanted it.

“I’ll take some more water” Hank called out from where he was spreading the takeout out on the coffee table. Better to just share it here than try to squeeze in at the tiny kitchen table. “Need any help bringing anything out?” He added, not sure if Connor intended to bring cutlery or dishes too.

"Please!" Connor hollered back, cursing the fact he didn't have enough hands for everything. He turned and smiled as Hank came through. There was so much he wanted to say, to tell Hank but he didn't think he could do the emotions justice. So he opted for a more simple though less elegant solution. Connor stepped forward and kissed Hank slowly.

Hank left Allen to the work of finishing the dinner prep and went to help his boyfriend. It wasn’t a big deal to help carry plates and forks, but apparently Connor thought it was. The kiss was sweet and slow, and Hank parted from it smiling softly at Connor. “You always surprise me in the best ways, sweetheart.”

That smile was everything he needed and Connor grabbed the plates while he handed Hank the jug of water and cutlery. One small, shy smile later, he was stepping into the living room where he let out an annoyed groan. "Seriously? Right by the food? What the hell is wrong with you, Sixty?!"

Hank followed Connor out into the living room where he was greeted by an unsurprising yet still very surprising scene. He and Allen made very unfortunate eye contact and he watched as the usually stoic member of their group flush slightly. “Huh.” Was all Hank had to say, too taken off guard to try and stop Connor from going off just yet.

Eyes glued to his twin, Connor could feel disbelieving anger seep through him. "Of all the times, Silas. How could you think of sex now? Couldn't you wait to get your rocks off until you had some privacy? You know, like a normal person?" The words were hissed and Connor couldn't figure out why he was quite so angry. A little voice in the back of his mind piped up about transference and refocused frustration but he shut it up.

One thing Hank had become more and more aware of recently was Connor's temper. More specifically, his habit of lashing out when he was feeling vulnerable. And right now? This was about the worst possible time for him to do that. Hank surreptitiously set the dishes down and moved closer to his boyfriend, watching Allen do the same. At least he knew one other person in the room was dedicated to not letting this fight happen. "Connor, it's okay. Let's just sit down and eat." Hank said, trying to diffuse the situation on his end.

"Fuck you!" Connor spat viciously. "I'm not sitting down to eat with someone as twisted and sick as you!" His voice was raised, vision narrowed on Sixty and the helpless rage he had felt suddenly found a willing target. It really looked like his twin was spoiling for a fight.

As Allen worked his way in between the twins, Hank was slowly stepping behind Connor, to pull him back if necessary. The last thing they needed was a physical fight on top of all this drama. But his heart sank when Nines suddenly entered the room and crumpled to the floor. Oh shit, that wasn’t good.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fight has been averted. For now.
> 
> This chapter runs parallel to two others. We recommend you read them in this order: [Chapter 54 of Rev My Engines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/66184018), this chapter, and [Chapter 10 of Stabilisers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25315246/chapters/66184216).

A parting shot of "because joining the army and letting us worry you were dead was so good for everyone" was lost in Nines' arrival. Seeing him go down like that, Connor was stepping around Hank, ignoring him in favour of rushing to his brother's side. He glared at Sixty behind Nines' back but the fight had gone out of him.

Hank sighed as well, but only out of frustration for how the situation seemed to just be getting worse. The twins might be focused on Nines now, but they were still clearly angry at each other. “I’ll get the supplies.” Hank spoke up, wanting Connor to stay where he was. It was simple enough to go and grab tissues and a glass of water, then a blanket as well as an afterthought.

The way Gavin all but crashed into the room, Connor was a little blindsided. But Nines was up and clinging to him which was okay. A quick, assessing glance and he turned to Sixty. "Food." The nod he got in return was good enough and he went to retrieve the things from the microwave. As he passed Hank, he murmured a soft "thank you" and squeezed his arm.

“Mm” Hank hummed in response, not needing the thanks but appreciating the gesture. He focused on getting the drinks to the table and the two weakest members of their group set up with cutlery and dishes so they could eat once Connor returned.

Food in hand, Connor put Nines and Gavin's one on plates but harshly thrust Sixty's container at him. Even if they had called a truce to help Nines, he was still pissed. But never enough to give Nines food while making Sixty get his own. That was too cruel, even for Connor.

Hank sighed again as he noticed the glare and the shoving, wrapping one firm arm around Connor as they sat down together on the sofa. He had a feeling he was going to have to put his foot down on this one. “Here, eat.” He insisted, holding our Connor’s food and a fork. If he was eating, he couldn’t say anything silly.

The silence of everyone eating was definitely helping settle Connor's rage though he still couldn't bring himself to look at Sixty. And he likely wouldn't for another couple of days. But he had a therapy appointment the next day anyway, maybe he could rant about Sixty and his....Connor couldn't quite remember what had started the argument. Sure, Sixty was being a brat but that was nothing new. Hell, he had no shame about jerking off one room over from him so it was completely in line with him feeling his boyfriend up when nobody was around. Slumping a little, Connor wondered whether he was just a shit brother.

It was like Hank could  _ feel _ the tension and anger leaving Connor, only to be replaced by self doubt and guilt. Which were, while less destructive outwardly, just as bad in Hank’s opinion. He kept his hand stroking up and down Connor’s side slowly, the pressure firm and gentle. “All finished?” He asked, looking over at Connor’s takeout box.

A small nod was all Connor could manage and let Hank take the box from his hands. Finally, he glanced over to his twin. "He's so much more bearable when he's asleep." It was meant as a joke but came out a little too honest and harsh. Connor bit his lip and looked away.

Hank squeezed Connor a little tighter and put the box down on the coffee table in front of them. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts before speaking, wanting to make sure he said the right thing. “We’re all stressed.” Hank said eventually, tone soft, “It’s natural to seek out comfort, just like it’s natural to snap when things aren’t going your way.”

Somehow, Hank always came out with such profound wisdom. It made Connor wonder whether there was something in his past that they hadn't talked about which made him so even and steady - especially in high stress situations. "You make things make sense. It's a skill I envy," he said. "Think we could sleep soon? I'm quite beat." The idea of curling up with Hank on the sofa held a certain appeal.

Hank had been to hell and back in his personal life and his career, which helped put things like this into perspective. He had also lost pretty much everything, so he didn’t need to pretend there was anything worth saving from his past. But he wasn’t thinking about that now, he was only thinking about Connor. “Sleeping sounds like a great idea.” Hank agreed, looking over at the napping Sixty. “Let’s get some blankets and pillows and set the four of us up for our sleepover, okay?”

Gathering all his spare throws and pillows, Connor approached Allen. He handed over half of the items, after a beat relinquishing his hold on the best pillow. "That one is Sixty's," he said, not bothering to explain. Back at the sofa, he pulled it out trying to make it as inviting as possible for Hank and offered a weak smile. "I'm not sure there's room for Sumo and both of us."

Hank chuckled, replying "Sumo should be used to sleeping on the floor. He just gets spoiled at home." He patted Sumo on the head as he clambered onto the sofa and tried to get comfortable. Honestly, sleeping on a sofa in his jeans with a whole other person also taking up space was not Hank's idea of a good time. But his comfort wasn't nearly as important as Connor's right now, so he didn't say anything, simply snuggling up to his boyfriend. "This okay?"

It was almost comfortable. But Connor couldn't quite get comfortable. Especially because Nines and Gavin were being....well, a little rude. "You've got the bedroom if you want a bit of privacy," he called over though he wasn't unkind. Somehow, Nines being the one to do anything with Gavin wasn't as upsetting as Sixty and his shameless ways.

Hank was very proud of Connor for not snapping at his other brother for being a little awkward. It was obvious he and Gavin were out of their minds a little bit, so Hank didn't mind quite as much...but he was glad to see them go nonetheless. "You're welcome" He replied to Nines' thanks, nodding at the pair before returning his attention to Connor. "Let's get some sleep, okay?" Hank murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Silently nodding, Connor watched as everyone left the room before wriggling around to get out of his jeans. His house, his rules he decided and he most certainly didn't want to sleep in jeans. "Want to sleep as comfortably as we can, given the circumstances?" he asked as he slipped under the covers.

Hank chuckled as Connor wriggled in place to get out of his jeans. “I would, but I’m not as acrobatic. I’d have to get up.” He admitted. The downsides to being old. “Besides, if I’m with you, I’m comfortable.” He argued, snuggling up and letting sleep take him. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor isn't quite ready to play nice just yet, will Hank let him get away with it?
> 
> This chapter runs parallel to one other. We recommend you read this chapter first, then [Chapter 55 of Rev My Engines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/66312911).

Unfortunately for Hank, another downside to being old was having to piss all the damn time. The sun wasn’t even up by the time his bladder had him rolling off the sofa with a soft curse and shuffling to the bathroom. He kept his eyes half shut in the hopes of getting back to sleep once he was done relieving himself.

Connor was blissfully unaware of everything, having slept through Hank getting up. He was exhausted and needed all the sleep he could get. Not a lot could really wake him, even a lick to his hand from Sumo went unnoticed.

"You're the ones in the fucking bathroom. Want me to piss on you instead of the toilet?" Hank grumbled, tucking himself back into his pants and flushing. He felt a little embarrassed, but it was the bathroom! Where was he supposed to take a piss? Washing his hands, Hank shuffled back out into the living room and did his best to snuggle back up to Connor without waking him.

Briefly, Connor blinked his eyes open but it was just to make sure Hank was okay. Satisfied that he was settling back down, Connor burrowed into the warmth of his arms and settled back to sleep.

Hank let the embarrassment of that little encounter fade away in the comfortable embrace of Connor’s arms. It felt good, almost normal, to fall asleep like this. Hank could almost forget about the problems they were dealing with as he drifted off again.

It was the smell of food that woke Connor. Suspiciously like pancakes. He groaned as he stretched, back popping in painful relief. Idly, he grumbled to himself about being too old to sleep on a sofa then he saw Hank and felt guilty. After everything they had done, that Connor had put him through, he was still there, weathering the storm that was his family. Connor really was going to have to do something special to make up for his never ending kindness and patience.

Hank started to wake as Connor did, his eyes blinking open slowly. When he saw that his boyfriend was awake but still here in his arms, Hank smiled. “Hey beautiful.” He murmured, voice low and gravelly with sleep. He was glad to see Connor accepting his affection instead of trying to isolate himself in this stressful time.

"Morning handsome," Connor replied reflexively. "Want to take bets on who is making breakfast? Winner gets a kiss." He didn't want to think about the day that was to come. Hank was on night shift, he had a therapy session in the morning before working until early evening. While he didn't know about the others, he suspected they all had work of some form to get to. It was going to be good to have a bit of time to himself that night.

Hank smiled to hear Connor joking around. That made him very happy. Especially with how down he had been yesterday. “Hmmm...not Gavin or Nines.” He said right off the bat, “Gavin’s a shit cook.” Humming thoughtfully, he considered further and said “Maybe Allen. I’ll say Allen.”

That was going to be Connor's guess too and he pouted. "How about a tie then? You get a kiss, I get a kiss? Because we're both going to win this bet." It was cheeky, but all he really wanted was Hank's affection. Walking into the kitchen, Connor's face fell a little at the sight that greeted them. He looked up at Hank with a pout. "I guess that's no kiss for either of us."

Hank just laughed along softly and agreed to whatever Connor said. Because really, the little bet didn’t matter. What mattered was doing something silly and lighthearted and fun together. When he finally stood up and stretched, Hank made sure to wrap Connor up in one last hug before they went into the kitchen. And even then he kept an arm around his waist. “Ah, what a shame” he sighed dramatically, “If only there were some sort of loophole that would let us kiss whenever we wanted...” He was hoping that by distracting Connor he could avoid any conflict with Sixty breaking out right away.

Realistically, Connor knew exactly what Hank was doing. And he was too tired to fight. Out of spite, he pressed a sloppy kiss to Hank's cheek and gave Sixty a glare before retreating to the table. His house, his rules. Even if he had double standards when it came to displays of affection. "I'll kick them out before therapy, but you and Sumo can stay as long as you want," he offered. The idea of Hank and Sumo in his house was strangely comforting.

Hank was very relieved to see the twins not at each other’s throats any more. Well, maybe still angry but not being cruel to each other. That would have made everything far more difficult. Hank smiled at the kiss and followed Connor easily over to the table. He sat down and twined their hands together, squeezing softly. “I appreciate that. I’ll be here all day, I’ve got a shift at work tonight.”

It was Sixty who brought the pancakes out and Connor stared at him, demanding a challenge. He steadfastly refused to let go of Hank's hand. Even if it was cruel, how he flaunted his own relationship, hadn't been at Nines to cut out his PDA but stamped on anything Sixty had with unerring cruelty. "Don't you need to be at work soon?" The question itself was innocuous enough. But the once over he gave Sixty was fairly pointed, knowing that his twin looked rumpled and unprofessional. It was a jibe that was difficult to prove but there was a sick satisfaction in Connor at watching him turn away, annoyance clearly visible in the lines of his shoulders and back.

Once Sixty left, Hank let out a pointed sigh and gave Connor a side eye. “Do you really think fighting with him is the best use of not your energy right now?” He asked. Hank knew how easy it was to lash out at those closest to you when you were upset and vulnerable, but he also knew how quickly that left you with no bridges at all. “We’re all on the same team, Con.” Hank added, then picked up his fork to start eating. He was famished, actually, and they smelled amazing.

"I never said anything." Connor held his hands up in defense. And, on the surface he knew it was true. It was one of his less than desirable traits but it was what made him so good at interrogations. "And I know we're on the same team. He could just be less...Sixty." That was the best description he had for his twin. But it seemed that the source of his annoyance was leaving because he spotted Sixty pulling his shoes on without saying anything to Connor. They would probably make up in a couple of days, when Sixty was done sulking and Connor realised he had been an ass. Until then, tensely ignoring each other was going to suffice.

Hank rolled his eyes at that and replied “And I think you could be less of a brat. I know what you’re doing Con, I know you.” Connor was incredibly loving and loyal, but when he wanted to be, he was incredibly petty. And if you weren’t familiar with how he did it, you wouldn’t be able to pin him down. In a more pleasant past, Hank imagined the twins as being the type to sit in the back seat as kids and have a ‘he’s touching me! I’m not touching you!’ argument. “Thank you for breakfast, Sixty. I appreciate it” Hank called over as he watched him put on his shoes.

The "whatever" Sixty threw over his shoulder only served to piss Connor off more. The least his twin could do was actually have some respect for those around him. Not like Sixty had just made them all breakfast, a guilt inducing voice whispered in the back of his mind. With Sixty gone, Connor didn't have a lot of places to direct his frustration so he watched Allen tarry in the dining room. "You're not going to go running after him?" Hank's words lingered, cast his mind to dark places. Though part of him relished being called out like that, he didn't want to admit being wrong just yet.

Hank sighed as Allen entered the room and immediately started snapping at Connor. Great, the most level headed one out of the three had lost it too. Since when was he, Hank Anderson, the voice of reason? This seemed like a shitty situation for that reason alone. Ignoring everything that was happening, Hank set a firm hand on Connor’s arm and said “Why don’t you go wake up Nines and Gavin? They should eat too.” That would give him something to focus on that wasn’t this, at least.

"Fine." Connor knew when he wasn't wanted around, Hank could just had told him to piss off for a bit, not given him some menial task. His anger was slipping out of control again and Connor wasn't sure if he could be bothered to pull it back in. It would have been so much easier to push everyone away, to be alone because then he didn't have to own up to any of his emotions or actions. His therapist was going to have something to say about that no doubt. Instead of retorting, he stomped off to the bedroom to get his brother.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite Connor's best efforts to drive everyone away, Hank isn't going to leave him high and dry.
> 
> This chapter runs parallel to two others. We recommend you read them in this order: this chapter, [Chapter 11 of Stabilisers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25315246/chapters/66481408), and [Chapter 56 of Rev My Engines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/66481534).

Hank simply finished off his pancake and got up to go into the kitchen to get some more. If everyone in this apartment wanted to be angry or sad or whatever, Hank was just going to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Nines and Gavin needed to eat, so he dished out some pancakes and put them on the table, then sat down again to wait for Connor. Sumo came over and put his head on Hank’s leg to demand pets, and he was reminded yet again of how wonderful it was to have a dog. Dogs didn’t do drama. They were reliable.

Doing his best not to grumble, Connor settled back at the table and watched Sumo beg Hank for pancakes. Greedy little bugger. Except, those words might as well be applied to Connor himself. Not quite knowing what he wanted but wanting all the same and at the expense of others. The jealousy of seeing Sixty happy with someone had burned and he couldn't quite figure out why. All the same, it made him feel like crap. "I need to get ready for my appointment," he mumbled and pushed away from the table, hoping to leave his shame behind.

Hank could see Connor sitting and staring from the other end of the table, but he didn’t say anything. If he was going to cause trouble then he was going to have to deal with the consequences. It wasn’t that Hank didn’t feel bad for his boyfriend with everything that was going on, just that he wasn’t going to coddle him too hard. “I’m driving you, right?” Hank offered, making the effort to reach out despite their little fussing episode.

"You've got the time for it?" Connor was genuinely surprised. "I think I finish just as you're meant to be starting work." However, a ride to therapy would be most welcome and he could always get the bus afterwards.

“To take you, of course. And I’ll see if I can’t swing picking you up too. Being late to work isn’t exactly groundbreaking territory for me.” Hank said with a shrug, still petting Sumo.

Rather than reply, Connor looked down at his plate. He was saved from having to form a response by Nines and Gavin emerging from the bedroom at long last. Keeping his eyes on his plate, Connor did his best to ignore the frightened intimacy between the two. It also kept him from wondering why he couldn't have the same with Hank. When Nines thanked him for breakfast, Connor only shrugged. It wasn't like he had a hand in it but he couldn't give Sixty the praise either.

Hank wasn't ever as clingy as Gavin and Nines, but if he weren't annoyed at Connor right now he probably would have been sitting close, arm around Connor's shoulder or waist or hand intertwined with his. As it was, he was giving said attention to Sumo instead, at least until he got bored and wandered over to see if Gavin or Nines would give him any pancakes. Not having anything else to do, Hank got up and went into the kitchen to see if he could tidy up the dishes or any leftover pancakes.

Calling Sumo away from Nines and Gavin, Connor buried his hands in hands in the fur but he wasn't interesting enough to keep Sumo close by. Instead, the dog lumbered out after Hank. It made Connor scowl at the fuzzy behind, hating how he wasn't enough even for a dog. "Sure," he replied to Nines thanking him and announcing his and Gavin’s intentions. "You do what's best for you." All he really wanted to do was scream and fight. Usually, Sixty was the best for that but he had been chased away too easily and now Connor was left with pent up frustration and nowhere to release it.

There wasn’t too much to get done in the kitchen, but Hank made sure the dishes were soaking in the sink and the leftovers were put away before he returned to the dining area. Sumo was lumbering after him, and Hank gave him a friendly nudge with his leg. “They left already.” He said in answer to Gavin’s question about Sixty and Allen, happy to see him looking at least a little alert.

Glad that Hank was replying to the question, Connor wasn't feeling up for it. All he wanted was for everyone to just fuck off for a bit. A silent home is what he really needed. And maybe- he cut that thought off then and there. It was a slippery slope to even think about it so he wasn't going to. Instead, he watched Nines and Gavin get ready to leave, offering their thanks and calling a taxi. All too soon, it was just him and Hank in the flat. Plus Sumo.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now when I say "spiraling out of control" I need you to know that I very much mean that things are only going to get messier from here on out

Once everyone was ushered out, Hank looked back at Connor, noticing he was still pretty stressed out. He didn’t say anything, just set about clearing the dishes and getting ready to take Connor to his appointment. If his boyfriend wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him, Hank was here to listen, but he wasn’t going to push or coax anything out.

Silence was something Connor could endure. He'd grown up too used to being ignored when he'd done wrong. So if Hank wasn't going to say anything, Connor had old habits to fall back on. He could get on with life without words, being an adult meant that if he wanted anything, he could get it for himself and not rely on those who had a responsibility for him. All too soon, it was time to leave for therapy and Connor dressed to go out, pulling his shoes on and wondered whether Hank still wanted to take him. But the silence wasn't his to break so Connor just pushed his feet into his shoes slowly and hoped Hank would say something.

Hank didn't particularly like the silence. It was something he'd gotten used to over the years, but this didn't feel comfortable. Connor was clearly upset, and that was worrying, as always. But Hank refused to let himself get into his own head, instead ambling over and grabbing his own shoes as Connor got dressed. "I'll wait for you to be done, then I'll drive you home before my shift." Hank finally said, shooting Connor a small smile as he pulled his shoes on.

"Thank you," Connor managed to say. He wasn't best looking forward to his appointment, too many emotions and thoughts for him to be able to work through in the hour he had. But he'd promised to try and be better so this was him doing it, everyone else be damned. He let Hank take the lead on going down and followed quietly.

"You're welcome." Hank said, staying silent until they were both on his bike. But then he found he couldn't quite stop himself from saying "You know I'm still going to take care of you and love you, even when we're having a disagreement, right?" He felt like in that moment, it was crucial for Connor to understand that.

That brought Connor up short. He had been so stuck in the mindset of the past, he was convinced Hank would drop him off without a word and leave him to find his own way back. It was what would have happened to him as a child. He blinked at Hank, not quite comprehending but still nodded because that was the right thing to do. "Thank you." That was easier to repeat because good manners had been instilled into him from a young age. Turning, he made his way to his appointment. He might as well not have bothered going. The hour was spent with what he felt like being needled for all his responses and failings at being a normal human being. While the words weren't said as bluntly, he walked out of there seething, knowing he couldn't even respond to kindness as someone should. Kicking at the dirt and pebbles on the pavement, Connor stormed towards where Hank had dropped him off with a fierce scowl.

Well, that wasn't quite the response Hank had been hoping for, but it did confirm for him that Connor definitely didn't understand what was going on. Or at least, didn't understand in the same way that Hank did. "You don't have to thank me." He said gently, but he didn't try to make him stay and discuss it. Hank spent the hour sort of pottering around the nearby streets, thinking about how he might better handle this situation. Because it seemed like things were spiraling out of control, and each of the three couples was kind of on their own. Case in point- Connor storming towards him and the bike with an absolutely foul expression on his face. "Rough session?" Hank asked cautiously, not even sure where to start with this one.

"Waste of fucking time and money. I'm never coming back," Connor seethed. He had every intention of cancelling his session next week and never rescheduling. It would save everyone a shit load of grief and his money would be better spent on something else - even a full body wax would have been more productive and pleasant than therapy. With little fanfare he jammed his helmet over his head, ready to get the hell out of there and never come back.

Hank sighed, shaking his head. "Everyone has bad days at therapy. That's kind of the point. You shouldn't cancel your appointment." He wasn't going to let Connor throw a fit and ruin all of his progress just because today hadn't gone his way. Allen and Gavin sure hadn't let him do that when he was in AA. Starting up the bike, Hank kicked up the stand and drove off once he was sure Connor was secure behind him.

What the fuck did Hank know about this shit? He'd mentioned therapy before but that didn't mean he knew what Connor was going through. The ride was blissfully silent, Connor could stew in his own thoughts without anyone interrupting. Maybe it was just as well he had the afternoon to himself. "Thanks for the lifts," he grumbled when they got back to his block of flats. "Have a nice day at work."

Hank hadn't expected anything from Connor when they arrived, but it was a little bit of a relief that he was at least still talking to him. Nodding, he replied "Happy to do it. You have a nice evening with Sumo, okay?" Hesitating, Hank turned back to Connor before he set off again, stating "I'm planning to drop by again after my shift is over." but phrasing the tone of his voice like a question.

"Sure." Connor barely bit back on the "whatever" that was clamouring to burst out. "I'll keep Sumo safe." He nodded, Hank had his helmet on. Probably to avoid a kiss and Connor couldn't really blame him. Going into the building, he trudged up the stairs feeling more and more hopeless with each step. If only he could stop feeling for even just a few hours. A reprieve from everything where Connor could just exist. Walking into his flat and finding Sumo casually chewing on the stuffing from his sofa, Connor closed his eyes and made a deal with himself. He would clean up, feed and walk Sumo. And, if after all that he was still feeling like this, he was going to make a phone call.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor have a much needed chat.
> 
> **Warning: This chapter and the one following it deal with discussions of serious drug and alcohol addiction. TW/CW for: drug addiction, alcoholism, discussions of past and future drug use, past alcoholism, and recovery from alcoholism. Tags have been updated to reflect this.**
> 
> Please be careful and kind to yourself regarding the content you consume. If this topic is not for you, you're more than welcome to rejoin us later - these notes will be updated with the chapter you can jump to in order to skip it <3
> 
> Also - this chapter does not run parallel to Rev My Engines, although it begins directly after the events of [Chapter 62](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/67536811)

If Hank was being truly honest, his day at work was kind of shit. It was hard to concentrate when he was so worried about Connor, but he did his best. It wasn't like he had never worked a distracted shift before. By the time it was over, a bone tiredness had settled over him that Hank was going to blame on getting old and nothing else. Hopefully he could go home and get a proper hug and a kiss from Connor to 'make it better', he thought with a chuckle. The sun was just starting to tint the horizon pink when Hank pulled up to the apartment and let himself in, not calling out in case Connor was still asleep.

The phone ringing woke Connor and he groaned. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck and cried about it the whole night. Which might have been a preferable outcome actually. Even worse, his phone was flashing with Hank's name. Shit. "Hello?" He picked up, groggy and dreading the conversation.

Hank, upon going into his bedroom and not finding Connor, and then doing a sweep of the apartment and not finding Sumo, had panicked. Something was very wrong, because the door was properly locked and there was no sign of breaking and entering. The bathroom and bed were a little disheveled, but he might have just forgotten how it looked when he left. Holding back the panic, Hank picked up his phone and called Connor. It rang and rang and then...Connor's voice. Relief flooded through Hank, because even though things were still weird at least Connor was on the other side of the line. "Hey, Con, you okay? I got home and you and Sumo were gone, where are you?"

"We're at Sixty's." Connor had no idea how to explain what had happened and he squeezed his eyes shut. "It was a bad night but we're okay. I'm sorry." The apology came easier this time than ever before. After everything, he knew he needed to come clean to Hank. "Could we talk this afternoon? I'll bring Sumo home once you've had some sleep."

Hank let out an audible sigh of relief as Connor explained. There was still a little bit of confusion, but nothing too serious right now. "Okay. I'm glad you're both okay. That's a relief." He said slowly, "I guess if you don't need anything right away then yeah, we can talk this afternoon." He wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep now, but it sounded like Connor wasn't ready to tell him what had happened yet.

"I'm sorry," Connor repeated. He really was. "I tried to be good for so long." Tears were threatening to escape but he managed to blink them back. "I'm taking the day off. So just let me know when you want me there and I will be." His mind was running away with worst case scenarios already. Looks of disgust, maybe pity if he was lucky. If Connor remembered, he was going to need to take a backpack with him to gather all his things from Hank's because after all this, he wasn't sure if he was going to be welcome in Hank's life anymore.

"I don't even know what you're apologizing for, Con." Hank reminded him softly, "But I'm not mad. I was just worried when you weren't where I left you." He did some quick math in his head to try and figure out what time would let him get enough sleep to be coherent and pleasant, and said "Alright. Does two work for you? Can one of your brothers bring you here or do you want me to come pick you up?"

It was going to be easier if Nines dropped him off. And probably waited for him, Connor didn't expect their chat to last longer than a few minutes. And maybe Nines could step in if things turned dangerously sour. Not that Connor thought Hank was a violent man but history had a tendency to show that even the seemingly nicest of people could flip without much warning. "Two will be fine. I'll look after Sumo until then and Nines will drop us off." He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to cry, not on the phone and not in Sixty's home. "I'll see you then."

"Okay, I'll see you then. Love you." Hank murmured into the phone before hanging up. Well fuck, it was just one thing after another, huh? He supposed he had had a good run of quiet living, it was about time life kicked his ass again. Hank shrugged off his jacket and his jeans and crawled into bed, trying his best not to let the worries cloud his head overmuch. Luckily, he was tired as hell, and it wasn't long before he was asleep, snoring in the empty space of Connor's apartment.

Two o'clock rolled round quicker than Connor had wanted. He had spent the morning with Nines in a well versed conversation about nothing yet everything. Mentioning that he was seeing Hank at two had Nines raising an eyebrow at him but he didn't push. Neither did he protest when Connor asked to borrow a bag and if, maybe, Nines could wait in the car as he didn't think it would take too long. It was all too easy to hear the fear that tinged his voice and Nines silently grabbed his service holster on their way out. Hank wasn't his colleague or boyfriend. If Connor was threatened, he had zero concerns about getting him to safety, even if it meant being written up. "I'll be here." Nines promised as he pulled up outside Hank's house. He watched Connor get out, clutching the empty backpack. "You're okay. I'll keep you safe." Nodding, Connor turned from the car and walked up the path to the front door, Sumo in tow. He rang the doorbell.

Hank had only really been able to sleep because he was so exhausted, if he hadn't been then the stress probably would have kept him awake. Whatever was going on with Connor must be bad, but he honestly couldn't even guess. Everything recently had been so wild, it was foolish to pretend he had any idea what new problem had cropped up. By two, Hank was awake and sitting in the living room, trying not to wear a hole in his carpet with the pacing. He got up as quickly as his hips would allow when he heard the doorbell, shuffling over and opening it with a relieved smile. "Hey Con. Come on in, it's good to see both of you." He said, and he meant it. It was a relief that they were both unharmed and standing in front of his door.

Letting Sumo go, Connor stepped into the house with a final glance out at the car, knowing Nines was watching. "It wasn't Sumo's fault," he said, trying to reassure Hank that his beloved dog was absolutely fine. Clutching at his backpack, Connor tried to figure out what to say but the words just weren't coming.

Hank couldn't help but chuckle at that, saying "Well I was more worried about you, but I'm glad the big lug didn't cause any trouble." Sensing that Connor was deeply uncomfortable, he gestured towards the living room, offering "Want to come sit down?" Hank was starting to really hate how Connor always seemed unsure of his welcome lately.

Not knowing how to take the fact that Hank was more worried about him than Sumo, Connor blinked. The strap of his borrowed backpack twisted between his fingers as he mustered up the courage to talk. Maybe a more gentle, softer lead-in would be better and staying by the door felt safer. "I'm not sure you'll want me on the sofa after you find out I'm a recovering heroin addict." So much for slow and gentle. Connor swallowed and watched Hank for a reaction, primed to run at the slightest sign of danger.

Huh. Okay. Hank's brain took a moment to try and grapple with a totally unexpected answer to the riddle he had been puzzling at all morning. He knew he was taking too long to respond, but he figured he could be excused in this particular situation. It was really the words 'recovering addict' that hit his heart and made it clench - Hank wouldn't wish that on anyone. Slowly, Hank said, "I think that's all the more reason to sit down and talk about this. If you're comfortable, that is." He could see just how nervous Connor was, and he didn't want to push him.

That was not the reaction Connor had been braced for in the slightest. He looked between Hank and the way to the sofa, licking nervously at dry lips. Nines could wait a little longer and the sofa was within view of the window. Nodding, Connor shuffled towards the sofa and perched on the end of it. "I wasn't expecting to be told to sit down," he admitted softly, eyes glued to the ground.

"What were you expecting?" Hank asked, settling down on the sofa just a little ways away from Connor. He seemed so on edge that a touch might send him fleeing, and that worried him. "I won't say I'm not surprised, or worried for you." Hank admitted, "But I'm not...angry. Or repulsed, if that's what you were expecting." He knew how ashamed he had been of his own past, he couldn't imagine what heroin made you feel.

"I don't know. People generally don't take kindly to addicts." Connor was lying, he had anticipated the worst outcome despite Hank never giving him reason to think that. It made shame wash over him afresh. He had to be one of the worst human beings alive, nobody could be worse than him.

Hank had worked long enough in the police department, he knew the second part was true at least. It stung, it really did, to think that Connor had been scared of his reaction, but Hank tried to center himself. This wasn't about him. This was about his boyfriend, who was scared and vulnerable, and had a hell of a past behind him. "Well, I...I do. I take kindly to you in particular, Con." Hank said, aware that he wasn't at his most eloquent right now. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and wondered if it was a good time to share, or if it would take away from Connor's moment.

"Even if I almost used again last night?" Connor was wringing his hands, looking utterly lost. "I spent pretty much all of this month's money on drugs and I didn't even get to take them." He laughed a little hysterically at that, realising how stupid he was. Maybe he should have taken them all at once and gone out happy. It would at least have put an end to all the problems and stress he caused.

Hank couldn't stand it any more, he reached out and clasped his hands around Connor's, squeezing gently to pause their frantic movement. "I'm really glad you didn't get to take them. Whatever happened last night, I'm glad you're okay. The money...well, the money is gone, and that's something we'll figure out." A lot of Connor's financial problems were starting to make more sense in Hank's head. "Anyways, Con, I...I want to share something with you. Because you're being so honest with me right now, it's only fair. Is that something you want to hear right now, or do you want to wait?"

When someone said something like that, it tender to not be a good thing. But it was better to rip a plaster off in one go rather than hope it could hold a gaping wound shut for long. "Tell me," Connor said, voice breaking a little. "Please."

"Uh. Well." Hank fumbled around a little bit, unsure of himself all of a sudden. But it was the same as Connor telling him about his addiction, right? He had to be honest. "Look, I used to be an alcoholic. Had to do like...a lot of therapy and support groups to get out of that place." He finally admitted, "So I guess I kind of know what it's like to be in that place. Not to say I get exactly what you're going through, of course. Just. I dunno. Felt weird hiding it now."

"You?! An alcoholic? But you're so-" Connor cut himself off. He wanted to say Hank was so normal, utterly nothing like an addict of any kind looked like, recovered or not. Then again, Connor didn't exactly look like someone who had regularly shot up. "Since when?"

Hank almost laughed when Connor immediately almost exclaimed that he didn't look like an alcoholic. It was a testament to how far he had come, of course, but also ironic given that he never would have assumed Connor was a drug addict. Funny how appearances could be deceiving. "After, uh, my marriage went sour. The divorce and the accident....it was a lot. I was on my own. So I just started drinking." Hank explained with a shrug. Connor knew he was divorced, he had been pretty upfront about that at least. Not that he ever got to see his ex or his kid any more, but it was still a part of his life.

That made a lot of sense actually. Connor nodded slowly, taking it in. "As soon as I moved out and realised nothing really changed, I looked for a way out. Nines was gone, Sixty was uncontactable. Heroin reminded me that it was possible to love life." It was tit for tat in a way. If Hank felt he could share, Connor would do his best to return the favour.

Hank nodded along slowly, glad that this system of sharing back and forth was helping Connor open up. "That makes sense. The alcohol helped me forget, instead. So I guess we both got what we wanted." He said. Looking closely at his boyfriend, Hank asked "Did you get help? At some point?"

At first Connor shook his head and then nodded. He did get help but probably not the kind Hank had in mind. "Sixty and Nines got involved when they realised I was in stupid amounts of debt and spiralling. Didn't have money to eat, was behind on rent, had credit cards maxed out. They stepped in. Made sure I stopped using safely and got me on the right track." He didn't mention the relapses, the screaming matches, how he sneaked out at night to buy a hit when everything felt so bleak. How, sometimes, he still itched for a hit because at least then he could feel warm. "How did you get sober?"

Hank wasn't surprised to hear that it was the brothers who had pulled Connor metaphorically to safety. Although not to total sobriety, it seemed. They were a dysfunctional little bunch, but they really cared about each other it seemed. Screaming fights or no. It was enough to pull a hint of a smile across his lips as he said "I'm glad you three have each other." "I got lucky. Got to the point where I was about to lose my job and probably my life to the drink when, well, Fletch decided I was worth saving. Teamed up with Gavin and kicked my ass into rehab, then AA. It wasn't fun, or pretty. But I'm good now as long as I don't hang out at bars or the like too often. Going with those two is usually safe."

That reminded Connor that Nines was still outside, waiting and potentially worrying unnecessarily. "Nines is waiting outside. Should I tell him to go?" he asked, knowing he was butting in and breaking the moment but Nines deserved better. "Sorry."

"Only if you're comfortable." Hank said, surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but glad that Connor wanted to stay, "You're always welcome here."

"Two minutes. I'll be back in two minutes," Connor stood up and backed towards the door, backpack left on the floor. He turned and rushed out, mind whirling. Seeing Connor hurry towards him without a bag, Nines was poised to intervene, anger bubbling in his veins. He was half out of the car, ready to demand Connor be allowed to retrieve what was his. "Nines," Connor breathed, eyes wild. "He's not mad." A soft, disbelieving laugh left him. "He's being so nice. And I don't think there's a catch."

Relaxing a little, Nines nodded. "Good. Do you want me to wait?"

"I think-" Connor looked at his feet. He didn't want Nines to feel like he was being cast aside just because Connor had found someone else.

"Go to him. You know the drill. No alone time for three days. If Hank needs to leave you, call me or Six." He got back in the car and watched Connor. "Oh, and Connor? I'm really happy for you." Connor nodded, floored by how everything seemed to be so much less complicated than he'd thought it would be. A little dazed, he walked back into the house.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, what you really need is a simple act of kindness, and someone who needs you to look after them.
> 
> **Warning: This chapter is the last one to deal with discussions of serious drug and alcohol addiction. TW/CW for: drug addiction, alcoholism, discussions of past and future drug use, past alcoholism, and recovery from alcoholism. Tags have been updated to reflect this.**
> 
> Please be careful and kind to yourself regarding the content you consume. If this topic is not for you, you're more than welcome to rejoin us next chapter - these notes will be updated with the chapter you can jump to in order to skip it <3
> 
> (IYNM will now pause in updates until a later date in the Rev My Engines timeline)

Hank was left on his sofa floundering mentally a little bit. Okay. So this was where the relationship was going, huh? In a way it was a bit of a relief, to know that at this point they were completely honest with each other. No secrets, there really couldn't possibly be anything else Connor could say that would surprise him, and that was a relief. Now, Hank realized, he could fall in love with Connor again - the complete and honest Connor, who was clearly struggling and needed someone to help him. Well, not help him so much as stand by him. That, Hank could do. Leaning back on the sofa, Hank pet Sumo's head where it was resting on the cushion next to him, letting out a pleased sigh. It felt good to get the whole thing about the drinking off his chest too. It hadn't been a secret so much as something there had just never been time to talk about, but it had weighed on Hank nonetheless.

Peering round the door, Connor blinked as he stuck his head in. "Nines said he'll get going. But I can call him any time if you want me out." He waited to be invited back in, wanting to sit next to Hank but still hesitant. Just because they had both revealed secrets didn't mean that they were suddenly okay again.

"I'm not going to want you out" Hank repeated, feeling like he was a broken record but not letting that stop him from saying it. If Connor needed to hear it a hundred times, he'd say it a hundred and one times, and that was just that. Patting the sofa next to him, Hank invited Connor to sit down again. "So. Anything I should know to help you get back on your feet right now? Cause I'm assuming you had a rough night last night."

Hank was right, it was a bit of a rough night. One that Connor wanted to forget about but knew that wasn't how these things worked. "The agreement I have with my brothers is that I won't be unsupervised for three days at least. Not even locking the bathroom door." That had been a tough one but when Sixty and Nines broke down Nines' bathroom door because Connor had locked himself in, they knew it had to be a rule. "And I don't leave the house without a chaperone for a week. But really, all I want is to sleep it all off." To retreat and pretend it never happened. Or at least, to be able to hide in a bed until the worst of the cravings had passed. Usually, his brothers wouldn't let him do that, pulling him out of his self-imposed exile and forcing him to interact with the world at large.

Hank nodded along as Connor explained, making a few mental notes for what he would need to do for the next few days. He might need to send Connor to stay with his brothers if he had a shift at work, but even then he might try to get out of work instead. Looking at Connor's tired expression, Hank almost said yes to his request to sleep it off. But then he reconsidered - remembering long days wasted, spent inside getting into his own head. "Sumo needs his walk first, then we can talk about a rest." Hank said with a kindly smile, standing up from the sofa and holding out his hand, "Give me a hand with him?"

Surprised but accepting of Hank's suggesting, Connor nodded. He got back up again, on half autopilot to get Sumo's leash and collar. Which was when another pang of cravings hit him, knowing that if he just took one hit, he could spend the day in a happy fugue, getting things done without all the worries and problems. "How do you cope when you want to drink again?" He asked, feeling like a child asking Santa for something silly.

Hank was surprised by the question, but he didn't let it throw him for long. He was honestly pretty happy to realize that Connor felt comfortable enough with him to ask him questions so soon. "I think about who's going to take care of Sumo, honestly." Hank admitted, looking down at where the dog was looking up at both of them, tongue out, tail wagging. "I couldn't always hold out for myself, but if I get blackout drunk or worse, who's going to let Sumo out? He depends on me, I can't let him down. He's just a dog, he trusts me."

Of course Hank had Sumo. That dog was doted on like no one Connor had seen before. It made sense, especially if he helped Hank so much. Which made Connor think. He didn't have anyone or anything like that. In the past, Sixty and Nines could have been his reason, he could argue if he wasn't there to look after them, nobody would. But now? Now they had Gavin and Allen, they'd replaced Connor and that was a bitter pill to swallow. "I'm glad you have Sumo," he said in the end, feeling brittle and a little hopeless.

Hank watched Connor's mind work its way through to its end goal of making him miserable - a cycle he was all too familiar with. Reaching out, he set a gentle hand on Connor's shoulder, saying "So do you. That dog loves you just as much as me, he'd be sad as hell if anything happened to you." Pausing, Hank made an offer that he wasn't sure would be received well, but might be worth making nonetheless. "Maybe you should get a pet of your own."

"I'm not sure I can afford a pet right now," Connor admitted softly. The idea of having a dog of his own sounded wonderful but there was no way he could pay for everything having one would involve. "Maybe when I've settled my debts." He offered a weak smile and handed Sumo's leash to Hank.

Hank shook his head and handed the leash right back to Connor with a smile. "Sometime this week, let's sit down and have a chat about money, okay?" He suggested. If they were going to stay together and not have any more secrets, they should probably talk about Connor's debts. It wouldn't be a great conversation, but it would help Hank know how he could help his boyfriend recover from this. "And a dog...maybe that can be something you work towards." Hank added, admitting "When I was getting sober, having something to work towards helped. I couldn't ride with Allen and Gavin if I was drinking, ya know?"

The idea of working towards getting a dog appealed to Connor. He barely dared hope or imagine a companion of his own. One that liked Sumo and Hank, that they could spend hours on end with in a little family of their own. "I think I'd like to get one from a shelter," he said. "One who had a rough start in life and has been overlooked by everyone else in favour of other dogs." Maybe it was a pipe dream, nothing more than a fantasy but it felt nice to hope for a simple future.

Hank nodded, really liking the fact that Connor was so readily buying into this idea. He really hoped that this was something that could help his boyfriend. Once they were outside and on the sidewalk, Hank took Connor's free hand in his to hold. "I think that's a good idea." He said with a smile, "A dog like that needs a home to call its own, with lots of love. Like it deserves."

At that point, Connor was no longer certain whether they were still talking about a dog, Connor or maybe even Hank himself. Perhaps a little of each. They walked and Connor was begrudgingly having to admit that maybe Hank had been right. Being outside in the sunshine was helping his general mood and things didn't feel quite as glum. Still impossibly sized mountains to scale but, with the sunshine, there was just the smallest ray of hope. It was all too easy to let Sumo lead their walk, following the twists and turns he took and walking behind him.

Hank wasn't sure where the metaphor was going either, but it was a nice one. He didn't mind if it meant a lot of different things. Walking with Connor like this was incredibly nice, and Hank was glad he had agreed to it. After everything that had happened lately it just felt... _ good _ to hold hands with his boyfriend and feel the wind on his face. Damn, he was getting sentimental in his old age. As they walked, Sumo pulled them in various directions, eventually ending up on a street filled with little shops. Hank spotted one that was selling ice cream, and he just couldn't help himself. It was hard to feel bad when you were eating ice cream. "Want one?" He asked Connor, nudging him to point out the shop.

Ice cream, especially one from such a quaint shop did sound like a wonderful idea. However, Connor was rapidly turning his enthusiastic, smiling nod into a shake of his head, features schooled into something more neutral. "You go ahead and get yourself one, I'll hold Sumo," he ended up saying. He wasn't going to point out he didn't have money for such a thing. For the next month he was going to be at Nines and Sixty's mercy in terms of money because, once again, Connor had fucked up.

Hank's heart squeezed as he watched the joy leech out of Connor's face. Fuck everything about this scenario, honestly. Nodding and not bothering to argue with the obvious deflection, he headed to the shop and bought two cones - both of their favorite flavors. Returning to his boyfriend, he smiled and held out the second cone towards him. "Here. Ice cream tastes awful if you eat it alone." He said simply, not leaving any option for Connor to turn him down. What was he going to do, make Hank eat both cones?

Hesitantly, Connor took the cone and gave Hank a weak smile. "Thank you." At least he could remember his manners. "I don't think I've done anything to deserve the treat but thank you." It was all such an ugly mess. His head was all over the place, echoes of memories, snippets of cruel words that had been drilled into him were swirling through his mind. Connor couldn't quite tell whether they were what drove him to wanting to use again or if the temptation to use had brought so much of it back. In a way, it didn't matter. Quietly, he slipped Sumo's leash over his wrist and took Hank's hand in his, trying to focus on the present.

"You're my boyfriend and I love you." Hank said, leaning across to give Connor a kiss on the cheek, "That's all the reason I need to buy you a treat. And you're welcome." He squeezed Connor's hand when it ended up in his, taking a lick of the ice cream. Oh that was the good stuff. Hank sighed happily and took another lick.

Deciding to try and act like a balanced and normal human, Connor licked his ice cream quietly. It really was the nice kind, rich and creamy, exactly how he liked it. With a little more purpose to their ambling, Connor decided to lead them in the direction of a park where they could sit down and enjoy the sunshine while finishing off their treat.

"Did I guess the flavor right?" Hank asked between licks. He had been going off of their previous times eating sweeter treats together to guess what Connor would like in his cone, and he seemed to be enjoying it...but he wouldn't put it past Connor to fake interest just because it was a gift. Hank happily followed wherever Connor led, settling onto the bench with a happy sigh and another enthusiastic lick of his cone.

"It's my favourite," Connor admitted softly. "Thank you." He didn't just mean the ice cream. But also the fact that Hank paid him enough attention to know his favourite. And for not reacting badly to finding out his boyfriend was a recovering drug addict who almost had a relapse the night before. The gratitude and awe that flooded Connor had him a little misty eyed as he looked over at Hank.

Hank smiled, glad he had gotten it right. His memory wasn't always the best any more, so it was satisfying when he was able to use his brain for something like this. In between licks of his own ice cream, he glanced over at his boyfriend, which was when he noticed just how teary-eyed he was. "Everything okay?" He asked softly, not wanting to push too hard in case that made Connor even more upset.

Things weren't really okay but that wasn't quite what Hank was asking. "I just can't believe you're still here. After all this." A big, fat teardrop spilled over. "I know I'm not who you initially thought or hoped I would be. But you're letting me walk your dog with you, buying me my favourite ice cream. And I don't think anyone outside of my brothers ever loved me like this."

Lately, Hank's heart had been breaking a lot for Connor. But this admission hurt more than anything he'd said so far. To think that he'd been so lonely too...feeling so unlovable. That he didn't realize just how much joy he'd brought into Hank's life, how loved he made Hank feel. "Oh Connor..." Hank breathed out, taking his free hand and wiping away the tear with his thumb, "I'm not going anywhere. I love you, we're going to get through this together." It felt good, to say the words he had always needed to hear. To be able to be there for Connor.

It was ridiculous, to be crying over some ice cream in a park. Connor's fingers were sticky where it dripped on him. "I love you too," Connor replied though he didn't feel his love was worth much. Maybe he could do better though. Be someone that Hank was proud to love and call his boyfriend.

Hank smiled softly and cupped Connor’s cheek for a moment before letting his hand fall back down to rest between them. “Hearing you say that makes me happy” he said simply. He could see the ice cream dripping onto his boyfriends hands and added “I didn’t mean to distract you though, eat up before it melts.”

Attention back on the ice cream, Connor had a few moments to gather his thoughts. There was something that had been on his mind for a while but he didn't know how to ask for it. But now, it felt like something that he wanted and needed. "When I sort my finances out again," he began hesitantly, "could we get something for us? A visual reminder that we're not alone. A ring or a tattoo or anything like that. Just, something to look at and remember that there is someone in this world who gives a damn."

Hank hadn't expected Connor to ask for something like that, and he couldn't help the way his heart squeezed at the thought. Looking down at his hand, he thought about how long it had been since he'd worn a ring. That was something he'd never thought he'd have again. It wasn't the same, of course, but still. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." Hank admitted softly, his eyes flicking up to meet Connor's.

"I can't believe I just suggested a tattoo," Connor laughed shyly. "But I'd do it for you." Licking his lips, he looked away for a moment before meeting Hank's eyes again. "I love you. You make everything seem, if not okay then at least bearable. Thank you." The ice cream was pretty much gone by then and Connor shuffled closer so he could push into Hank's side and lay his head on his shoulder.

Hank chuckled, thinking about how he had managed to get the most tame out of the three brothers when it came to body modification. He, Gavin, and Allen were all tattooed in one way or another, and he was pretty sure Nines was as well, and Sixty for sure. Maybe he'd be the one to coax Connor into joining them. But those thoughts all faded away in the face of Connor's heartfelt confession. Hank found himself smiling softly as he tucked Connor against his side with the hand that wasn't holding his half-eaten ice cream. "You remind me every day that life can still be good" He admitted softly, "Just by being yourself. And I love you for that and more."

Life could still be good. It was a promise without ever being called that. Connor clung to it. He might even write it down and leave it on his bedside table as a reminder. Even when things went to utter shit, life could still be good. If Hank said it, it had to be true. "Maybe we could head home soon?" he asked quietly. He meant Hank's home but there was a sliver of hope in Connor's heart that it was his home too. Maybe his boyfriend's words were slowly sinking in.

"Sure, sweetheart." Hank agreed easily. Going home was probably a good idea. Even though he didn't want Connor to languish away in bed all day, he was tired and he needed to rest. A nap would be good for him. Maybe for both of them, seeing as how Hank had just gotten off of a night shift. Finishing off his ice cream, Hank offered Connor his hand to stand up off the bench together.

Walking back to Hank's, Connor found himself drooping a little. The burning need to pump his body full of drugs was merely a sweet, soft siren call in the distance of his mind. It had faded a lot quicker than usual and Connor wondered what was so different about it this time. Probably Hank and his easy ways because while his brothers were supportive, Connor never could shake the slight air of judgement and pity from them. There was none of that with Hank. "Bed?" he asked hopefully, leaving his shoes by the door.

Hank was also starting to lose his energy as they approached the house, but he was an old man who needed his beauty rest. He got them into the house and got Sumo off his leash and set up with fresh water before nodding and saying "Yes please. I need a nap." As they approached the bedroom though, Hank hesitated, asking "You gonna be okay if we both sleep? Or should we sleep in shifts?" It would be tough, but he'd do it for Connor.

"I'll be okay, I promise." Truthfully, Connor was probably going to sleep like the dead until woken up by Hank later on. It was just an easier state of being while his head was such a mess. A little shy but more confident than before, Connor started stripping, intent on being comfortable for their snooze. Still, he waited for Hank to get into bed first before even thinking about encroaching on his space.

"Okay, but wake me up if you need anything" Hank said, wishing he could say he would wake up if anything happened. The truth of it was that he was tired, and he was going to pass out and sleep for as long as he was allowed at this point. Seeing Connor strip without being asked or coaxed made Hank feel good - clearly his reassurance was working at least a little bit. Stripping down to boxers himself, Hank crawled into bed and patted the space next to him with a yawn, hoping Connor would hurry up so they could both close their eyes soon.

Quicker than it was probably becoming of someone Connor's age, he was curling up into the space offered. The only thing missing was the comforting weight of Hank's arm around him. But, Connor could hope that he would be gifted that with a little more time. "Thank you," he murmured, eyes closed. "For everything."

As soon as Connor had wiggled into place, Hank wrapped an arm around him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "You're welcome" He said softly, "Thank you for staying here with me." He could feel exhaustion creeping up on him, but he'd wait until Connor was asleep before he allowed himself the luxury.

It didn't take long for Connor's whole body to feel heavy. He was tired, emotionally more so than physically not it didn't matter. Burrowing into Hank's hold, he closed his eyes and drifted off.

Hank only lasted a few moments after Connor fell asleep before the exhaustion hit him as well. He had an alarm on his phone, but that wouldn't go off until it was time to wake up and make dinner. They could sleep for a while together, getting some much needed rest.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Connor really needed was a little bit of time outside of his own head, and that was enough to help him make a surprise discovery!
> 
> This chapter does not run parallel to Rev My Engines, although it begins directly after the events of [Chapter 67](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053658/chapters/69562239)

Out the door, Connor looked around, trying to take stock and figure out which way to go. He needed to run, to hide, to forget all of that shit. But Hank was still behind him, drawing him away from the brink. It wasn't even like Connor had anything he could pawn for cash and his bank account was empty so, even if he had wanted them, he couldn't afford to shoot up.

Hank wished he wasn't thinking about the fact that he needed to make sure his boyfriend didn't relapse, but he was. So he was much more careful to follow Connor closely, making sure he didn't bolt or anything stupid like that. But he knew he couldn't stop him from going  _ somewhere _ . Why not go together then? "Where do you want to go?" Hank asked calmly, stepping up next to Connor and watching him closely.

The question brought Connor up short. He wasn't alone, Hank was still there which he already knew but hearing him was grounding. "Anywhere. Nowhere." Connor slumped in defeat. The world was too big and yet he still couldn't find his place in it. "Somewhere nobody will ever find me." Find or hurt, he wanted to say but it felt like too much.

“Let’s ride then.” Hank offered, “We’ll get on the highway and just drive for a while. Or hit the back roads, where there’s less people.” He couldn’t promise Connor an escape forever, but a reprieve for a few hours was something he could do.

Mindlessly riding was a very appealing idea and Connor lurched into action. "Please. Can I just follow you for a bit?" There would be no need to think about directions, speed limits, stopping for breaks. Hank could be trusted to take care of it all.

Hank nodded. He wasn't  _ totally _ comfortable with the idea of Connor behind him, because then he would be harder to follow if he peeled off and tried to escape. But he was also in no state to lead. So Hank would just have to be careful and keep an eye on him in the rearview mirror. "Sure, let's go together." Hank said, giving Connor a quick squeeze before leading them both to their bikes and getting his helmet on.

Riding definitely helped. While Connor didn't have to think as such, his mind was still chugging away without his conscious input. At least, not until there was something of import. Dropping down a gear, he pushed to pull up alongside Hank and signalled for him to follow. They were going back to Connor's place where there might be evidence to help their case.

Hank took them on a nice tour through town, making sure there was enough challenge to keep Connor occupied, but not so much that he might lose him. It wasn’t relaxing but it was a good thing he wanted to do for his boyfriend. When Connor pulled up and signaled for him to follow, Hank did so without hesitation. But he was still plenty curious by the time they pulled up to Connor’s apartment.

Manic nervous energy took over Connor as he locked up his bike and hurried upstairs. Hurrying into the bedroom, he got onto his stomach and began to to pull things from under the bed until a dusty, taped shut shoebox was in his hands. "I don't know why I have these," he finally spoke and offered the box of camera tapes to Hank. "They might have something to help with evidence."

Hank was confused and a little bit worried as Connor rushed inside with no explanation and started pulling apart his bedroom in search of something. He didn't question it though, instead letting his boyfriend work through whatever this was on his own. And when the answer was revealed, Hank couldn't help but feel vindicated in his trust. "This is great, Con" Hank praised, "Good job remembering them. We can look through them to see if there's anything useful for the case."

Not quite understanding why he was being praised, Connor stared at the box in his hands. He didn't do anything, merely pulled the tapes from the place they had been gathering dust. "I'm not sure I can watch too many of them," he confessed. There were too many memories tied up in them, none of them exactly good ones. Because while those on camera may seem to be having a good time, usually there was one person either not being filmed thanks to some perceived disgrace or they were all pretending to be one big happy family.

Hank reached out and set his hands over Connor's where they were holding the box. "You don't have to watch them. I can look through them for you, or I'll do it with Allen so we can both look at the evidence." He reassured, "I'm not going to ask you to relive something you didn't want to."

It wouldn't be fair to make Allen and Hank watch them by themselves. And they wouldn't know the circumstances around the recordings, whether one of them was in disgrace at the time or what. "I can't ask that of you. You won't know the surrounding stories." Connor wouldn't remember them all either, which meant he'd need at least one of the others to watch it with him too. Given their reactions, Sixty was probably the better bet - he would at least keep himself together until after they were finished.

Hank frowned - Connor was right, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. He didn’t want to add any more trauma onto his boyfriend’s plate if he could help it, but it seemed there really was no other way. Sighing, Hank nodded. “You’re right. But don’t push yourself. And any time you need an out, we’ll work out some way for you to signal me, okay?”

It was the best they could get in the situation and Connor nodded. "Do we go back to Sixty's now?" He was at a bit of a loss as to what to do now. They had the next course of action in hand and Connor wanted to get it all out of the the way, be done with it as quickly as possible. But at the same time he wanted nothing to do with it all.

Hank shook his head, replying "There's no need to rush. I'm glad you remembered this, but it's not going anywhere. I'll text Allen to let him know, but we'll deal with it in the next few days." He didn't think it would be a good idea to push everyone any further today. Let them all get a good night's sleep, let the plan and the reality of it all sink in, and  _ then _ they could watch the tapes. "For tonight, let's just relax together, okay?"

Relaxing was perhaps not quite the word Connor had in mind for that evening but he nodded anyway. If Hank had an idea, he would go along with it. Anything was better than the clawing need to get lost in a drug haze. "Would you text him please?" For one, Connor didn't think Allen would welcome a message from him. Secondly, asking for help from someone he antagonised felt humiliating.

Hank absolutely wasn’t leaving Connor alone tonight. Whatever that meant - sitting together, watching a movie, having sex, just talking - anything was better than leaving him to his demons right now. “Sure, I’ll let him know” Hank agreed, pulling out his phone and shooting Allen a message to let him know they’d found some evidence to review later.

The "what now?" hung heavy in Connor's mind. He set the box down and stared at it like it might suddenly jump at him or disappear. "Do you need to go check on Sumo?" No doubt the dog was missing his owner and Connor had taken up enough of Hank's time of late.

"Probably should take him out." Hank agreed with a nod, standing up and groaning as he went. Getting old was hell on the joints. "Do you want us to spend the night here or at my place?" Hank asked once he was standing, reaching a hand out to help Connor up off the floor. There was no doubt in his mind that they were spending the night together, it was just a matter of where.

Clutching the box to his chest with one hand, Connor accepted Hank's help. He didn't have anything keeping him tied to his flat. "Yours?" He asked hesitantly. Plus, seeing Sumo would be a boost, the dog almost always made him feel better.

“Perfect.” Hank Said with a smile. He would have been just as happy to spend the night here, they just would have had to bring sumo over. But this way was nice as well. “Anything you want to bring for the night?” Hank asked. He knew Connor had everything he could need in the way of toiletries at his house, but it was polite to ask.

The box was clutched to Connor's chest. Now that he had it, he wasn't going to let it out of his sight in case it got lost. "Just this." He shoved it in a backpack and offered Hank a weak smile. "Ready when you are."

Hank just smiled back and held out his hand for Connor to take. He had plans to drive them both on his bike as long as his boyfriend didn’t mind - letting him drive when he was so shaken up seemed like a bad idea. “Let’s go home then” Hank said, “We deserve a nice quiet night in”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quiet date night is what these two deserve, don't you think?
> 
> (IYNM will now pause in updates until a later date in the Rev My Engines timeline)

There was zero resistance from Connor at the prospect of riding behind Hank. It gave him a chance to plaster himself against a broad, warm back and think. This was definitely an end of sorts. No matter what happened, things would never go back to how they used to be. Either they would defeat Elijah and win the right to live a free life, or they were going down hard. There was no other real outcome.

Riding home with Connor pressed up against him was actually really comforting. With everything that had happened lately, with the drama over his brothers, then the drugs, then Kamski, it seemed like it had been so long since Hank had just....been with his boyfriend. Like they used to be, without the weight of these worries. Well, maybe with them there, but just not quite at the forefront. It was good to deal with problems, Hank knew that. But he hated to see Connor like this all the time. He just wanted to make him happy, but that was hard.

Happiness was quite far out of reach as far as Connor was concerned. He had dug himself into quite the emotional hole. However, he was trying his absolute best to not be a constant drain on Hank. Which meant that when they got to the house he mustered up a smile and allowed himself to be led in.

Hank could tell that Connor was trying hard. Which meant he would do the same. "Alright, in we go. You know the drill, go and get some of my pajamas to change into while I call the takeout" He ordered gently, giving Connor a smile in return. He was going to pamper his boyfriend as best he could with a cozy night in, and hopefully get his mind off of things.

It was a familiar dance by then. Connor walked to Hank's bedroom and pulled what had become 'his' set of pyjamas and put them on, enveloped by a sense of calm and comfort almost immediately. Shuffling out into the kitchen, he plastered himself against Hank's back. "Thank you." It hopefully encompassed everything he wanted to say.

Hank finished the call to the carryout place and hung up the phone, smiling as he felt Connor's arms wrap around him. He set his hands on his boyfriend's arms and squeezed gently. "You're welcome." He said simply, not particularly needing to know what Connor meant. Whatever it was, Hank was glad he could help.

They migrated to the sofa and Connor curled against Hank's side. It felt safe enough to relax and maybe even dare hope that things could be like that in the future. The peace and calm was shattered by the doorbell ringing, making Connor jolt up. Logically, he knew it was the delivery of food but his heart still pounded in his throat.

Hank had just been relaxing himself and about to ask if Connor wanted to watch something when he suddenly jumped out of his skin. That startled Hank more than anything, and it took him a moment to catch his own breath. Smiling reassuringly, he stood up and said “I’ll go get the food, Okay?”

"Sure. Take Sumo." Not that Sumo would be much good for anything if it didn't involve getting tummy rubs but a first glance would be more than enough to deter someone. Hopefully. He watched Hank go to the front door and kept his ears pricked, hand on his phone and read to dial Nines if things went wrong.

Hank nodded, patting Sumo as they walked towards the door. Unsurprisingly, it was just the delivery guy, and the transaction to get their food was uneventful. He turned to Connor and raised the bag in triumph with a smile as he shut and locked the door, announcing "Success."

Relief washed over Connor yet again. It was just the food, nothing more. Maybe they could really spend the rest of the evening relaxing without any further interruptions. "I'll get plates," he offered, keen to not be lazy and letting Hank do all the hard work.

“Great, bring some cutlery too” Hank said, ambling back over to the coffee table and starting to unpack the food. Sumo, of course, wanted to be included and was snuffling about, but Hank pushed him aside without much fuss. By the time Connor returned, all was ready for them to dish out their meals.

They worked well together in a domestic setting. That thought haunted Connor a little because he wanted them to work well all the time but his own inability to cope seemed to be the only barrier left between them. He would have to do better. Food plated up, he sat down at the table and waited for Hank. "Thank you for this," he said softly.

Hank sat down as well with a satisfied sigh, pleased to have a hot meal and good company to share it with. It was good too that Connor seemed less nervous now. “It’s no problem. A little date night, my treat” he joked, even though this was a piss poor excuse for a date to treat his boyfriend with.

Soon Connor would be able to return the favour. He had been stupid, foolish and weak to spend all his money on drugs. But a new sense of determination set in. Even if he couldn't be a decent man for himself, he could try for Hank. Reaching out, he took Hank's hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. There was finally a sliver of hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any and all kudos and comments are loved and cherished <3 
> 
> You can find [Bready](https://ohnomybreadsticks.tumblr.com/) and [Socks](https://connorssock.tumblr.com/) both on tumblr!


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